


Love Me Til My Heart Starts

by lilbluednacer



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Daddy Issues, F/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Oliver, Slow Burn, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:12:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4805795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilbluednacer/pseuds/lilbluednacer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slow burn Olicity AU: Oliver Queen is busy drinking his life away when Sara Lance shows up looking for a favor. Babysitting a strange girl from Vegas is so not his idea of a good time. But when Felicity Smoak is in more danger than he'd bargained on, saving her might be exactly the redemption he's been looking for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Sara calls him Oliver almost doesn't answer. It's midnight on Saturday and he's drunk, alone in his penthouse, thinking about his dad and Tommy and every other way his life went totally wrong.

So when his phone rings, the name Sara Lance flashing across the screen, he almost doesn't pick up, because he's drunk enough to be sad and sentimental.

But (unlike her sister) Sara only calls Oliver when she really needs something, so he sighs heavily and picks up the phone.

"What's up, Sara?"

"Ollie, hey, good, you're up."

"It's not that late."

"Look, I need to talk to you about something."

"Okay."

"In person."

Oliver frowns at the phone. "I thought you were in Vegas."

A slight pause. "I was."

"Sara, what's going on?"

"I'm an hour out of Starling City, I'll tell you when I get there."

"You're coming over now?"

"Yeah. And I'm bringing a friend, okay?"

"Sara, are you in trouble?"

"Not exactly," she says grimly.

"Sara-"

"I'll explain when I get there," she says shortly. "Oh, and Ollie?"

"Yeah?"

"Put a shirt on."

Sara hangs up and Oliver puts the phone down, mystified. He jumps into a cold shower to help sober him up and pulls on a pair of sweats and a worn Starling City Rockets tee shirt.

In the kitchen he throws leftover pizza in the toaster oven and eats mechanically, the carbs helping to soak up the whiskey in his stomach.

By the time Sara buzzes up from the lobby an hour later he's relatively sober and getting worried. Dramatics are more Laurel's thing, not Sara's, and it's been months since he saw Sara anyway. Why wouldn't she tell him she was coming into town ahead of time?

The door to the penthouse opens (with a key he doesn't remember giving Sara, but he's not exactly surprised either). Sara comes in first. She's zipped into her leather jacket and her hair is pulled back messily, like she didn't have time to brush it.

Another girl trails in behind Sara. She's petite, with wavy blond hair in a similar messy state, and she looks really pale for someone who he's assuming came from Vegas. She's dressed in worn leggings and a navy sweatshirt, a small duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

She stays behind Sara, her eyes darting all over the penthouse behind glasses that give off a sexy librarian vibe. She looks like a deer, like something that Sara trapped and dragged into the building.

Like someone in a cage.

Oliver swallows. She's just some friend of Sara's. He doesn't know why the look on her face is messing with his head so much.

"Ollie, this is Felicity. Felicity, Oliver." Sara introduced them.

Oliver steps forward with his hand outstretched but Felicity skitters backwards to hide behind Sara.

"Hey, it's okay," Sara says softly, grasping Felicity's wrist gently. "Ollie's a friend."

"Sara?" Oliver questions.

Sara ignores him completely, turning to Felicity. Sara strokes her cheek and adjusts her glasses, whispering something into her ear that Oliver can't hear. Felicity nods along but her eyes look totally blank, like she's not processing anything.

Sara smiles and gives her a pat on the head, like Felicity is a very good puppy, and watches Felicity wander into the living room and plop down on the big leather couch.

"What the hell, Sara?" Oliver says. "What about Nyssa?"

Sara wrinkles her forehead. "What about Nyssa?"

"Does she know you're cheating on her with a fucking teenager?"

"Oh my god Ollie, you're such a moron. Felicity's not...it's not like that, okay, I promise. She's just a friend. A good friend."

He glances towards the living room, where Felicity is sitting very still, staring off at the wall.

"Why haven't I met her, then?"

"Because she doesn't live here, stupid."

"Then what is she doing here?"

Sara bites her lip. "That's what I need to talk to you about."

"Okay."

"I need a favor."

"Why do I think this favor has to do with little miss comatose on my couch?"

"I need you to take her for a little while," Sara says, like Felicity's his long lost daughter Sara is dumping on him.

"What do you mean, take her?"

She sighs impatiently. "She needs a place to stay. That's the favor."

"Sara, you can't show up at one in the morning and drop some kid on my doorstep. I'm not running a daycare."

"She's twenty-two, if it's age of consent that you're worried about."

"Sara."

"Ollie, please. She's in trouble, okay? She needs a safe place to stay."

"Again, do I look like a babysitter to you?"

"Please, Ollie. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

"Why can't she stay with Laurel?"

"She's too busy."

"Hey, I'm busy."

Sara rolls her eyes. "You own a nightclub, Ollie. Your life consists of sleeping 'til noon and partying all night."

"What am I supposed to do with her?"

"Just keep her alive, okay?"

He thinks at first she's joking but then he sees the way Sara looks at Felicity and realizes she's being totally serious.

"How much trouble is she in?" he asks quietly.

Sara blinks and shakes her head. "I just need you to keep her safe, okay?"

"Sara, what happened?"

She shakes her head. "It's probably better that she tells you."

He raises an eyebrow. "Does she speak?"

"She's had a long night."

"I don't know, Sara..."

"Ollie," Sara says sharply. "I swear, I will never ask you for anything again, ever. Please. I need you. _She_ needs you. I know this doesn't make sense right now, but I need you to trust me."

"Alright," he sighs. "She can stay in the guest room."

Sara smiles and throws her arms around him. "Thank you," she says, kissing his cheek. "You have no idea."

"You owe me."

"Yeah yeah," she waves a hand dismissively. "I should say goodbye then."

"You're leaving?"

Sara nods tightly. "I have to go back to Vegas."

"Why? I thought you just came from there."

"Nyssa's still there."

"She didn't come with you?"

"Look Ollie, there's a lot going on right now. Nyssa and I have something we have to do, and don't ask me to tell you, because I won't."

"It's for Felicity, right?" he guesses.

"Yes," she says tightly.

"Hey, have you slept at all?" he asks, resting his hand on her shoulder. "You can crash on the couch for a few hours."

"No rest for the wicked, Ollie."

Sara goes into the living room and Oliver trails behind her. He trusts Sara, so if she says Felicity is in trouble she's probably right.

Felicity looks up at Sara when they come in, with this totally lost, bereft look on her face that breaks his heart.

It reminds him of when he'd first gotten back from the island and would catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He would stop and stare, wondering at the stranger in the mirror, broken and haunted-looking.

Sara gives Felicity a tender smile and kneels down in front of her.

"I have to go now, okay sweetie?"

Felicity's eyes widen like she's about to cry and she pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"It's okay," Sara reassures her. "Oliver's going to take good care of you." She turns over her shoulder to glare at him. "Isn't that right, Ollie?"

"Yeah," he mutters.

Sara and Felicity hug (or rather, Sara hugs her while Felicity sits ramrod straight, like she's just tolerating the affection). Oliver shakes his head. This girl has some issues.

"I love you," Sara whispers, and kisses Felicity's forehead. "Don't worry, okay? You're safe here."

Felicity nods mechanically and Sara steps back, her eyes glittering with tears.

"Sara," Oliver says quietly.

"Don't," she sniffs. "I'm fine."

She wraps her arms around his neck and he hugs her back, wondering how much trouble a girl who weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet could get into.

"One more thing," Sara says. "You can't leave her alone. Like, at all. Ever. Okay?"

"What about when I have to pee?"

"I'm being serious. Where you go, she goes. Your her bodyguard now. Got it?"

"Sara, what aren't you telling me?"

She gives him a sad smile. "Just keep her safe, please."

He leans down and kisses her cheek. "Of course."

"Thank you, Ollie. I'll check in with you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," he says, and then she's gone.

Oliver returns to the living room, hoping Felicity's not about to have a breakdown on his couch. She's sitting exactly where they left her.

Her hands are shaking in her lap.

"Hey," he says, and when she doesn't respond he taps her shoulder lightly.

Felicity jumps about a foot off the couch, her head whipping around to stare at him, looking terrified.

"Hey, hey." Oliver holds his hands up in the air. "It's just me. I'm going to show you the guest room, okay?"

She gives him a tiny shrug and picks up her duffle, and follows him down the hall to the guest room.

"So this is your room for now," he tells her, flicking on the light. "I'm just down the hall."

Felicity sets her duffle down at the foot of the bed and perches on the cream colored duvet Laurel picked out when he first moved in.

"Do you need anything before I go to bed?" he asks her.

She shakes her head, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"Okay," he says lightly. "Like I said, I'm down the hall if you need anything, okay?"

She doesn't say anything.

"Okay then," he says awkwardly. "Goodnight."

Felicity dips her head and he sighs, shutting the door behind him. What the hell did Sara get him into?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver learns babysitting is harder than he thought.

In the morning Oliver finds Felicity sitting at his kitchen counter, dressed in the same outfit as last night. Her eyes are rimmed with red and she looks like she didn't sleep at all. Her arms are folded on the counter and her head is lying on them with the sweatshirt hood pulled over her hair.

"Morning," he says quietly, remembering the way she jumped when he touched her before. "Want some breakfast?"

She doesn't say anything but she lifts her head up a little to watch him open the fridge, assessing the contents.

"Do you want water?" he tries again. "Juice? Coffee?"

She perks up a little at the word coffee.

"I'm going to make a pot, would you like some?"

Felicity's hands knot together as she lifts her head. "Yes, please," she whispers.

"She speaks! Coffee coming right up."

Oliver pulls a bag of ground beans out of the fridge and scoops some into the coffeemaker, filling it with water and turning the machine on. It gurgles reassuringly and Oliver turned back to the fridge.

"What do you like to eat?" he asks Felicity. "Bacon? Pancakes? Oatmeal?"

She shakes her head, staring down at her fingernails.

"Okay," Oliver says cheerfully, like they're having a two-way conversation. "I'm going to make eggs then. I'm really good at making eggs. My housekeeper Raisa taught me. You know what the trick is?"

He turns back to Felicity and to his surprise she's staring at him with laser-like focus, looking as if she's hanging on his every word.

"Butter," Oliver says seriously. "Lots of butter."

The coffeemaker beeps and Oliver pours two mugs, sliding one down the counter to her. "Cream? Sugar?"

Felicity nods so he gets out both and places them next her mug. She dumps a disgusting amount of creamer in and then four sugar packets, making him gag.

He returns his focus to the eggs, melting butter in the pan and whisking the eggs in a bowl before pouring them in. He cooks them on low heat, scraping the spatula around the pan while Felicity quietly drinks her heart attack in a mug.

When the eggs are finished he piles them on a plate and grabs two forks, just in case, and crosses the kitchen to where Felicity sits, lowering himself onto the stool next to her.

Like he expected she doesn't respond. Oliver sighs and begins to eat, mulling over the situation as he chews.

Okay. What does he know?

Felicity is a friend of Sara's.

She's in some kind of trouble.

She may be mute or otherwise mentally impaired.

She doesn't seem to have the human instinct to eat or sleep or engage in friendly conversation.

And then, to his absolute surprise, he feels cool fingertips on his forehead smoothing out the wrinkles he's making from all that thinking. He turns in shock and Felicity drops her hand down to her lap.

"What?" he asks. "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head quickly, as if to say, _never mind_.

"Felicity," he says gently. "This would be a lot easier if you'd talk to me."

She blinks at him, her blue eyes glassy. "Sorry," she whispers.

He reaches out to pat her hand but stops when she freezes, like she's bracing herself for an attack.

"It's okay," he tells her. "You'll talk when you're ready, yeah?"

No response.

"You sure you're not hungry?"

Felicity shakes her head emphatically.

"Okay," he says, putting his plate in the sink. "So what do you want to do?"

Felicity shrugs. He checks his watch. Eleven am. Great. He's made it through half an hour.

Babysitting is going to be so much harder than he thought.

xxx

By two pm he's going crazy. After breakfast Felicity made her way to the couch with a tablet in her hand. She hasn't looked up from it since she sat down. The tv is on, but it's the middle of the afternoon so there's nothing good to watch.

The fifth of whiskey on the side table is calling his name, but Oliver valiantly ignores it. He has a feeling Sara will kill him if he gets drunk on the job.

Felicity gets up and wanders out of the room, ostensibly to go to the bathroom, so Oliver pulls out his phone and dials Sara.

"What," she says in lieu of a greeting. "Everything going okay?"

"I don't think this is working."

"It hasn't even been one day, come on."

"She doesn't talk."

"She talks."

"Not to me. I've met two year olds with bigger vocabularies than her."

"You're being a jerk, Ollie."

"She won't eat anything."

"She'll eat when she's hungry."

"I think she's on a hunger strike."

"I don't have time for this," Sara snaps. "It sounds like she's fine."

"I don't agree with your definition of fine."

"God Ollie, just deal with it. I'll talk to you later."

Sara hangs up on him.

Oliver stares at his phone in disbelief. There's a sound in the doorway, and he looks up to see Felicity hovering at the edge of the room holding a glass of water.

"Hey," he says uncomfortably, unsure of how much she overheard.

"One-sixty," Felicity says, sitting back on the couch and picking up her tablet.

"Excuse me?"

"My IQ. It's one-sixty."

"So...?"

"So my vocabulary is much more expansive than a toddler's."

He stares at her in amazement (she speaks again! In an actual sentence!), but Felicity is already back to ignoring him.

Screw it. He gets up and pours himself a whiskey.

xxx

If Felicity disapproves of the two drinks he has in the middle of the afternoon Oliver doesn't know, because she's still not talking to him.

He's restless, switching between baseball and hockey on tv. His fingers twitch and rub together, a tic he's picked up since the island.

Like he still has an arrow in his hand.

When his phone rings and he sees Thea's face flash on the screen Oliver's actually relieved, just so he can talk to someone who will talk back.

"Hey Thea."

"Where are you?"

"Ollie, where the fuck are you?"

"At home," 'he says slowly.

"It's six o'clock!"

"So?"

"It's Sunday!"

"Shit!" he exclaims, running to his bedroom and putting Thea on speakerphone.

"You forget?"

"I'm having a weird day, okay? I got distracted." Oliver shucks his sweats and pulls on nice slacks and a grey cashmere crew neck.

"Well Mom's freaking out."

"Tell her twenty minutes."

"There's no way you'll get here in twenty minutes, you're all the way across town."

"Goddammit Thea, just tell her I'm on my way!"

He hangs up in annoyance and goes back to the living room. Felicity is sitting with her legs crossed under her, her tablet clutched to her chest.

"Hey," he says, coming around the couch to crouch in front of her. "I need you to come with me somewhere."

"Where," she whispers, staring at the floor.

"My mother's."

Felicity flinches. "I don't want to do that."

Oliver frowns slightly. "Why not?"

Felicity presses her lips together tightly.

"Hey," Oliver says softly. "Talk to me, what's going on? Why don't you want to go?"

Felicity deliberately looks down, tracing the edges of her tablet with a fingertip. "I don't think I'm very good company right now."

"Look, all you have to do is sit in a chair and eat. I'll tell them you speak Finnish or something, you won't even have to talk."

"I don't know," she hedges quietly. "Why can't we stay here?"

"Because it's Sunday. Every Sunday night I go to my mom's and have dinner with her and my sister. Today's Sunday so I have to go, and Sara said I can't leave you here alone, so you have to come too."

Felicity bites her lip. "Okay."

He looks her up and down, wincing at her leggings. "Do you have any other clothes?"

Felicity nods silently and hops off the couch. Oliver follows her to the guest room and watches as she picks up her duffle and dumps the contents out on the bed.

She sits expectantly on the bed and looks at him. "I don't know how a billionaire dresses for dinner."

The things in her bag are packed haphazardly, like things were grabbed at random. Nothing matches. There's a pile of thongs, a few pairs of sweatpants, a handful of simple v-neck tee shirts in different colors.

He digs through a few plain camisoles and a soft ivory knit sweater and finds a pair of dark rinse skinny jeans. Oliver plucks at a scrap of white lace next to them that turns out to be a sleeveless blouse.

"What about this?" he asks, handing her the top and the pair of jeans.

Felicity nods mutely.

"Okay," he says. "I'll let you get changed."

Felicity shifts her feet, clutching the bundle of clothing. "Are we late?"

"What?"

"You were yelling on the phone."

He smiles wryly. Considering the deaf/mute impression she does sometimes she's actually pretty perceptive. "Don't worry about it. Take your time."

When Felicity comes into the living room fifteen minutes later she looks like a completely different person. Her hair is brushed back in a neat ponytail and the dark circles under her eyes are covered by concealer. Her lips are painted bubble gum pink.

The top is delicate and fits her nicely, highlighting the curve of her waist. Her jeans are snug and show off a toned ass and slim, muscular legs.

Holy shit. Felicity is _hot_.

She stands in front of him, that lip bite suddenly looking less than innocent.

"Do I look okay," she says quietly, staring down at her black ballet flats with fucking _panda bears_ on them, and just like that she goes back to being the scared little girl Sara dropped off last night.

"You look really nice," he says gently.

She lifts her head and gives him a tremulous look that could be a smile if he squints really, _really_ hard.

"Ready to go?" he asks brightly, picking up his keys from the end table.

Felicity nods hesitantly.

"You okay?"

Felicity toys with the hem of her top. "Are you mad?" she asks quietly.

"What?"

"That you got stuck playing bodyguard."

"Why would I be mad about spending time with a pretty girl?" he says lightly.

Felicity flushes. "But you're putting your entire life on hold for a total stranger."

"Felicity?"

"Yeah?"

Oliver grins. "You're definitely overestimating how much I have on my plate right now."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity meets the Queens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, a lot of you have been asking how closely this tracks with canon. Just to clarify, we totally diverge from canon after Oliver comes back from the island, so there is no vigilante in this fic. Thanks for reading!

Felicity falls asleep in the car on the drive to the mansion. Oliver turns the radio down low, driving through Starling City on autopilot. When they get to the house it's almost seven.

He winces. He's an hour late and he's showing up with a mystery blonde. His mother is going to kill him.

"Felicity," he says softly. When she doesn't wake up he reaches over and shakes her lightly. "Felicity, we're here."

She wakes abruptly, jerking back and slamming her head into the window.

"Shit," Oliver mutters. "You okay?"

Her hand goes to the back of her head. "Yeah," she murmurs sleepily. "Ow. I think so."

"Can I look?"

"Um..." Felicity shifts awkwardly in her seat. "Okay."

He leans over and cups the back of her head, fingers digging through her hair until he finds a small swelling knot.

"Ouch," she murmurs, pulling away from him. "Don't."

Oliver frowns, looking out at the house looming in front of them. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

"It's okay," she says, but she sounds like she's trying to reassure herself more than him. "We're already here."

She looks out her window and for the first time seems to realize where they are.

"Oliver," she whispers, "where are we?"

Or maybe not.

"My house," he says, getting out of the car and jogging around to open the door for her.

She stares up at the Queen Mansion in awe. "This is your house?"

"Well, my mother's."

Felicity's jaw drops. "This is where you grew up?"

"Yeah," he says, feeling a wave of rich white boy guilt coming on, and then the door opens.

"Oliver, for heaven's sake, come inside, you're an hour late," his mother snaps.

"Sorry," he says, walking into the foyer. "Traffic was hell."

"Hmm," his mother sighs. "I'm sure."

She notices Felicity hiding behind him and gives him an icy look. "And who's this?"

"Mom, this is Felicity-"

"Smoak," Felicity says quickly. "Felicity Smoak."

Moira ignores her and fixes Oliver with a look. "What have I told you about bringing uninvited friends over to the house?"

"I'm not his friend," Felicity blurts out.

"Excuse me?" his mother says coolly.

"I mean, we just met actually. I'm friends with Sara. Sara Lance? Anyway I was supposed to be staying with her, I'm visiting from out of town, but she had to...do something and Oliver got stuck playing tour guide, which is why we're late, so please don't be mad at him, because it's totally my fault. Oh god, I'm babbling. I'm sorry, I talk a lot when I get nervous."

Oliver stares at her in shock. Not only did Felicity just put several consecutive sentences together, she took all of the blame for him.

This girl is kind of incredible.

"That's quite all right dear," his mother says, giving Felicity an amused little smile.

"Thea, your brother's here, time for dinner," she calls out, leading them to the dining room.

Thea pops out of the den, dressed inexplicably in a beaded crop top and pale pink ball skirt.

"No fair!" she cries when she sees Felicity. "You said Roy couldn't come, why does Ollie get to bring a guest?"

"Because your brother has no sense of propriety," his mother says calmly, sitting down at the head of table.

Thea and Oliver slide into chairs on either side of their mother and Felicity sits on Oliver's left.

"Where's Walter?" Oliver asks.

"Beijing," his mother replies stiffly. "Some people have to travel for their work. Keeping up international relations is imperative-"

"That's why Dad went to Russia so much?" he sneers. " _International relations_?"

"Watch your tone, darling."

"So who are you?" Thea says bluntly to Felicity, swiftly detouring the conversation.

"Felicity," says Felicity, at the same time Oliver says, "She's Sara's friend."

"Sara's here?" Thea asks hopefully.

"Do you see Sara?" Oliver says.

Thea glares at him. "I was just asking."

She turns her sights on Felicity, and Oliver grips his napkin, praying Thea doesn't rake Felicity over the coals.

"Cool top," Thea says.

Felicity blushes and smiles shyly at Thea. "Your outfit is amazing."

"Thanks," Thea says happily. "If you're in town for a while we should go shopping."

Felicity's smile slips off her face. "Yeah," she says quietly. "Sounds fun."

"Are you in town for long?" Moira asks.

Felicity glances at Oliver and he shrugs.

"I'm not sure," Felicity says. "Indefinitely, I guess."

"So you're not in school?" his mother probes.

"Mom," he says sharply.

"I just graduated actually," Felicity says.

"Really? From where, dear?"

"M.I.T."

His mother gives Felicity a genuine smile. "Well that's quite impressive."

Felicity shrugs. "I like computers."

"You should interview at Queen Consolidated," his mother advises. "I know the IT department is always looking for fresh blood."

"Actually, I have an interview set up for a couple of weeks from now."

"That's wonderful!" Moira exclaims. "I'll be sure to mention you to Walter."

"Mom, I'm sure Felicity doesn't need you to talk her up."

"Don't be silly, dear," his mother says. "I'd be happy to."

"I want a drink," Oliver says loudly.

"Of course you do," Thea rolls her eyes.

"Felicity, would you like a drink?" Oliver asks, ignoring the glares his mother and sister are shooting him.

"Um..." Felicity shrinks a little under the scrutiny of his mother and sister. "Maybe a glass of wine?"

"Red or white?"

"Red, please."

Oliver smiles brilliantly at her and Felicity blushes. "One bottle of red coming up."

xxx

"How come you don't like your mom?" Felicity asks him when they're back in the car, the Queen Mansion shrinking in his review mirror.

"Hmm?"

"Your mom. Why don't you like her?"

"Why do you think I don't like her?" he asks curiously.

Felicity rolls her eyes. "'Cus you were jumping down each other's throats."

He sighs. "It's a long story."

"If you don't want to talk about you can just say so."

"I don't really want to talk about it," he says.

"Okay," she says easily.

A few minutes go by in comfortable silence.

"Hey Felicity?" Oliver asks.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you here?"

Felicity bites her lip, clearly her tell for when she's uncomfortable. "What did Sara tell you?"

"Just that you're in trouble."

"That about sums it up," she mumbles.

"Let me guess, you don't want to talk about it."

"Not really."

"Okay...it's just...how am I supposed to protect you if I don't know what I'm protecting you from?"

Felicity shrugs. "Sara would have told you if she thought you needed to know."

"I guess so."

"Does that bother you?" she asks quietly.

"No. It's just...I'm living with you and I don't know anything about you."

"You know my name."

He snorts.

"You know I went to MIT."

"You told my mother that, not me."

"Fine," she sighs. "What do you want to know?"

"You ever played twenty questions?"

"Contrary to what you seem to think Oliver, I have in fact socialized with other humans before."

"Want to play?"

Felicity hesitates slightly. "Can I pass?"

"Sure."

"Okay."

"Okay, let's start with something easy. Where are you from?"

"Las Vegas."

"It's your turn to ask now," he reminds her.

"Oh right. Okay, was Thea serious about taking me shopping?"

Oliver laughs. "Unfortunately, yes. Thea takes shopping very seriously. What do your parents do?"

"Pass," she says immediately.

"Wow, okay. Before, you told my mother you talk a lot when you're nervous."

"Is there a question in that sentence?"

"You barely talked to me all day. Does that mean I don't make you nervous?"

Felicity gives him a small affirmative head shake. "No, you don't make me nervous."

He grins. "That's good, I thought you were terrified of me."

"I'm not scared of you," she says softly.

"What are you scared of?"

"You don't get follow up questions, you have to wait your turn," she reprimands him. "Why did you let Sara talk you into doing this for me?"

"Because she's my best friend and I'd do anything for her. So what are you scared of?"

"Pass."

"How'd you meet Sara?"

"She tried to pick me up at a casino. How'd you meet Sara?"

"Wait, wait, I think there's a story here. She picked you up at a casino?"

"Yup. Slid into the booth where I was doing my homework, eyed me up and down, and said you're cute."

"Why were you doing homework at a casino?"

"No follow ups. Where'd you go to school?"

"Harvard, Princeton, Penn, and Yale."

Felicity's jaw drops. "How many degrees do you have?"

"Nuh-uh, you said no follow ups," Oliver says cheerfully. "Siblings?"

"No," she says shortly. "Seriously, how many degrees to you have?"

"Zero. Dropped out of all of them. Why computers?"

"Because when I was a kid they understood me better than the other kids did. Computers can't make fun of your glasses or your clothes. Not that you'd understand. I bet you have a billion friends, don't you?"

"Is that your question?"

"I guess so."

"No, I don't have a billion friends. On a scale of one to ten, how much does Nyssa hate you?"

"What?"

"Cus I think I'm at a twenty-five."

"Nyssa thinks I'm _ador_ able," Felicity drawls. "Why doesn't she like you?"

"'Cus I have a dick," Oliver grumbles.

"Yeah I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you and Sara used to sleep together."

Oliver laughs awkwardly. "So she told you about that huh?"

"Yup. In gory detail, actually."

"My apologies," he chuckles.

"No need. From what I've heard I should be congratulating you."

"Please don't."

"Okay."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"It's not your turn. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Not anymore."

"Anymore?"

"Again, not your turn. Can I ask a question you probably don't want to answer?"

"Sure,"

"How did your dad die?"

"What?" he stammers.

She blinks, her hands twisting in her lap. "I know something happened with the boat but no one ever said how it all happened, exactly. I mean, boats don't just sink for no reason right? Anyway you don't have to tell me, it's just something I was wondering about."

Oliver rubs his eyes with one hand. The thing with being a famous billionaire is that he doesn't usually have to answer questions about his life because everyone already knows the answer.

"You really don't know?" he asks her quietly.

Felicity frowns. "Why would I ask if I knew?"

"I thought Sara told you, I guess."

"Oh. She didn't. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No, it's okay." Oliver's hands tighten on the wheel. "We made it to a lifeboat. There weren't enough supplies to keep two people alive. He shot himself."

Felicity's mouth falls open. "Oh my god, Oliver," she says softly. "I didn't know."

"It's okay."

"No," she says shakily. "It's not okay. I'm so sorry."

"Really, it's fine. It happened a long time ago."

Felicity curls up in her seat, hugging her knees to her chest. "Why is it fine because it happened a long time ago? He's still dead. You saw him die."

"It doesn't hurt as much anymore. I have some distance from it now, so it feels...I don't know, less senseless I guess."

Felicity nods at that. "Are you mad at him? For dying?"

He glances at her in surprise but she's staring out the window, her arms tightly wound around her legs.

"I was for awhile," he confesses. "Not anymore."

"Why?" she asks quietly. "What changed?"

"I guess I realized that it wasn't helping. Being mad at him didn't bring him back, and it just made me feel worse. What you resist persists, and all that."

Felicity sits up in her seat. "What does that mean? What you resist persists."

Oliver smiles sadly, remembering silky black hair and dark eyes that held an unshakable light. "It's just this thing that someone I knew used to say. It means that the more energy you put towards something the more power you give it. The more you resist what is, the more pain you're putting yourself through. Once you can accept that things are the way that they are, you stop fighting what is and start working with it to make things better."

Felicity stares at him in wonder. "Did you become a Zen master on that island?"

He can't meet her gaze. "I became a lot of things on the island."


	4. Chapter 4

That night Oliver dreams of his father. The dream is always more impressions than anything else: the panic, the fear, the icy black water.

He wakes when he always does. When the gun goes off.

Oliver jerks awake, sitting up in bed, dripping in cold sweat. He scrubs his face with his hands and flips on the lamp on the nightstand, checking the time on his phone. Three am.

There's no point trying to go back to sleep after one of those dreams. He never can.

He takes a quick shower and when he gets out he feels a little more human. Oliver pulls on a pair of sweatpants and walks through the dark penthouse to the living room.

To his surprise Felicity's curled up on the couch under a blanket watching an old black and white movie.

"Hey," he says in a low voice, alerting her to his presence so he doesn't startle her. "What are you watching?"

"Casablanca."

"Okay if I sit with you?"

"Mm-hm," Felicity says.

He sits on the other end of the couch, sinking into the leather. Felicity's back in her sweatshirt, her blond hair pulled up in a messy bun.

She looks so young and fragile, and tragic in a way that he can't really pinpoint.

"Hey, Felicity," he says. "Have you slept at all since you got here?"

"I slept in the car on the way to dinner," she replies, not taking her eyes away from the screen.

"Slept for more than half an hour," he clarifies.

"I can't sleep," she says softly. "I tried, I just...I couldn't."

"What's bothering you?"

Felicity flinches. "Why do you think something's bothering me?"

"When I can't sleep that's usually why."

"Oh," she says quietly.

"Hey," he says, leaning over a little so she's not so far from him. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

She turns so he can see her face. She looks pale and withdrawn, purple circles under her eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" she whispers.

"What do you mean?"

"Acting like you care about me."

Oliver frowns. "I do care about you."

"You don't even know me."

"Yeah, not really," he agrees. "But you know Sara, and she's my best friend, and she really cares about you, so it's like, what's it called-"

"Transitive property," Felicity supplies.

"Exactly."

"You don't have to do this," she says. "You don't have to be so nice to me just because of Sara."

"Why wouldn't I be nice to you?" he asks, feeling kind of bewildered. Usually he has to beat girls off with a stick, not beg them to open up to him.

But Felicity is clearly not a regular girl.

"Look," he tries to explain. "I don't know how to take care of you and not care about you. Does that make sense?"

She nods hesitantly. "I guess so."

Oliver sighs. "I know that I don't understand exactly what you're going through, but it's pretty obvious you're going through something."

Felicity doesn't say anything but she shifts a bit so that the sides of their arms touch.

"What happened?" she asks, gesturing to the scars on his bare chest.

"That's my something," he tells her.

Felicity's hand comes up in the air and traces the patterns of his scars. Oliver shivers.

"Someone hurt you," she says quietly. "While you were on the island."

He swallows past a lump in his throat. "Yeah, sometimes."

"Why?" she whispers.

"Some people are just bad people."

Felicity nods seriously at that.

"Look," Oliver says. "I get it if you're not ready to talk about it."

She bites her lip, looking down in her lap. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," he says easily. "I understand."

"If I talk about it," she continues, "then it's real. And I'm not ready for that."

Felicity blinks slowly and slides down a little so that her head rests lightly against his shoulder.

"Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we just watch the movie right now?"

Maybe it's the mystery of it all, maybe it's the way she can go from melancholy to snarky to philosophical in the blink of an eye, but something about Felicity is getting under his skin.

"Sure, Felicity. Whatever you want."

xxx

In the morning Felicity is back to doing her zombie impression. She sits silently at the counter sipping the coffee Oliver made, ignoring him when he tries to get her to eat breakfast.

Oliver sighs, pulling up a stool next to her at the counter. He drags his spoon through his instant oatmeal, going over what he's seen her eat since Sara brought her here Saturday night. A few bites of Raisa's Greek chicken at the mansion last night, and that's it. She must be starving.

"Felicity," he says quietly, because she still has this nervous quality to her, like she might run away if he talks too loud.

She doesn't respond, just stares down at her coffee.

"Felicity, can you look at me please?"

She shifts in her seat, pulling her head up to glance at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey," he says. "You need to eat something, okay?"

Felicity shakes her head, her ponytail swinging between her shoulder blades. "I'm not hungry."

"Come one, of course you're hungry. You've barely eaten anything since you got here."

"Don't tell me what I am," she says in a low voice. "I told you, I don't want anything."

"You don't like...have a _thing_ , do you?" he asks hesitantly.

She raises an eyebrow in confusion. "A thing?"

"Like a no-eating thing," he says awkwardly.

He is going to kill Sara. He is so out of his depth here that he's slightly terrified. And he thought _Laurel_ was difficult.

Felicity obviously requires some extensive operational manual Sara forgot to give him.

Felicity gives him a look that might be amusement or disdain, he can't quite tell. "I don't have an eating disorder, Oliver."

"Then why aren't you eating?"

Felicity takes a sip of coffee. "I don't feel like it, okay?"

"No," he says shortly. "Look, Sara asked me to take care of you, and I'm pretty sure that letting you starve to death would violate that promise."

"Fine," she sighs, and snatches a lone banana from the fruit bowl on the counter. "Happy?"

"I will be when I see you eat it."

"You're really micromanage-y, you know."

"And you're stubborn."

His phone rings and Oliver hops off his stool to answer it, watching Felicity out of the corner of his eye. She has the banana peeled but she's just staring at it, like its some foreign object she's never encountered before.

"Get out your wallet!" Thea's voice chimes through the phone.

"Huh?" Oliver says dumbly.

"Shopping, big bro," Thea says brightly. "Remember? I told Felicity we'd go shopping."

"I didn't know you meant this morning," Oliver grumbles, refilling his mug with fresh coffee.

"Do I joke about things like this?"

"I really wish you would."

"Well, too bad. We're going. I'm already in the car. Tell Felicity to be ready in twenty."

Oliver glances back at Felicity, who's eaten a quarter of the banana. "Thea, I don't know..."

"Oh, you want her all to yourself, is that it?"

Oliver chokes on his coffee. "It's not like that, Speedy. We barely know each other."

His sister snorts. "Like that's stopped you before."

"Did you call just to harass me?"

"Shopping, Ollie. Twenty minutes." She hangs up.

Oliver sighs and turns back to Felicity.

"Hey, we have to get dressed. Thea's on her way over."

"Why?" Felicity stutters. "Right now?"

Oliver grins wryly. "Apparently we're going shopping."

Felicity goes pale. "Oliver, I can't go shopping."

"It'll be fine, just smile and nod and try on whatever Thea gives you."

"No, you don't understand." Felicity bites her lip. "I can't go."

Oliver rests him elbows on the counter. "Why not? Because trust me, Thea will find an argument for any excuse you throw at her."

Felicity groans and buries her face in her hands. "I don't have any money."

Oliver stares at her blankly. "You don't have any money?"

"Well, I didn't exactly have time to swing by the bank on my way out of town," Felicity snaps.

"But-what about your credit cards?"

"I have one credit card, _one_ , and Sara says I can't use it!" Felicity wails.

"Why not?"

Felicity shrinks a little. "She says it's too easy to track."

"Why would someone be tracking your credit card?"

When she won't look at him Oliver puts his hand on the back of her stool and turns it so she's facing him.

"Felicity," he says. "Is someone looking for you?"

Felicity stares at his chest. "I don't know."

"You don't _know_?"

"Maybe," she whispers. "Sara thinks so."

"Is this why you're here? Someone's after you?"

Felicity is huddled on her stool, biting her lip so hard it's turning white.

"Hey," he says gently, brushing her mouth with his finger, getting her to release her lip. "You're going to hurt yourself."

Felicity catches his wrist in her hand. "Please," she says brokenly. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Okay, it's okay," he says, even though it's not, because Felicity looks like she's about to cry. "Let's just get through the next couple of hours, okay?"

"Okay," Felicity nods hesitantly.

He gets his wallet and extracts his black card, and hands it to Felicity, who tries to push it back into his hand.

"What are you doing?" she says, looking panicked.

"For shopping."

"Oh my god, Oliver, I couldn't."

"Felicity, I have more money that I know what to do with, seriously, it's fine. You'll need this to keep up with Thea anyway."

She blushes. "I keep forgetting you're a billionaire."

She climbs off the stool and stands in the middle of the kitchen, as if she's unsure of the direction she's supposed to go.

"Okay?" he asks gently

Felicity nods rapidly. "Yeah. It's just...I'm really glad Sara brought me here, instead of, god, I don't know, Laurel or someone. You're being...you're being really great."

He gives her a charming smile and to his surprise she flushes. "You're welcome, Felicity."


	5. Chapter 5

True to form, Thea drags Felicity and Oliver around Nieman Marcus chatting happily, oblivious to the fact the Oliver is bored as shit and Felicity looks like she might just collapse under the weight of the clothes Thea keeps handing her.

"I don't normally wear stuff like this," Felicity mumbles, accepting what looks to Oliver like a _cape_.

Thea cocks her hips and looks Felicity up and down, taking in her jeans and plain white tank top.

"Well what do you usually wear?" Thea inquires seriously. "Not this, right?"

"I packed in a hurry," Felicity murmurs.

Oliver frowns. He thinks Felicity looks nice. She's not the kind of girl that needs extra stuff to look pretty.

"Leave her alone, Thea," Oliver says, as Felicity wilts under his sister's scrutiny. "There's nothing wrong with her clothes."

"Of course not," Thea says hastily. "I'm sorry, Felicity, I didn't mean it like that. I just want to amp you up a little. Make you pop."

She flashes Felicity a killer smile, the kind Thea uses to wrap people around her finger.

"It's okay," Felicity says. "I'm just used to college, you know, sweatpants to class and everything."

Thea shudders. "Please stop talking. Here, go try these on."

Thea ushers Felicity into a fitting room and Oliver plops down in one of the plush chairs outside the door.

"Really, Speedy?" Oliver says to Thea, who's hovering outside the fitting room door. "What's wrong with you?"

"What? What did I do?" Thea says defensively.

"Did you have to give her such a hard time? Its just clothes."

"Felicity's fine, relax." Thea brushes him off. "Why are you so grumpy? Oh right, its Monday."

"Shut up," he mumbles.

"Seriously Ollie, what's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? You have a serious hottie staying with you _indefinitely_ and you barely talk to her."

"It's the other way around, actually."

"Well I can't blame her for that." Thea perches on the edge of his armchair. "I'm just worried about you. You have like, no friends. You need to socialize more."

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Dragging me down with your attitude."

"Back off, Thea."

"You can't punish yourself forever, Ollie."

"I mean it. I'm not in the mood for a lecture."

Thea frowns. "Tommy wouldn't want you-"

"Don't go there, Thea," he snaps.

His sister flinches and gets down from the chair, wrapping her arms around her waist. Shit.

"Thea-"

"It's fine, Ollie. I get it." She knocks on Felicity's fitting room door. "How's it going in there?"

"Okay." Felicity's voice floats out.

"What're you trying on?"

"The blue one."

"Come out and show me!" Thea demands.

The door opens and Felicity steps out timidly. She's wearing a sleeveless royal blue dress that makes her blue eyes pop. The dress is tight to her waist and the skirt flares out around her thighs.

Thea squeals, clapping her hands together. "You look amazing!"

Felicity glances hesitantly at Oliver. "What do you think?"

He gives her a reassuring smile. "You look beautiful. It's a nice color on you."

Thea beams at them. "Spin for mama," she encourages Felicity, who does a little turn, the skirt of the dress flaring out as she twirls.

Thea puts a hand on her hip and gives Oliver a self-satisfied smile. "Do I do nice work or what?"

xxx

When they get back to the penthouse Felicity goes straight to the guest room and shuts the door.

Oliver sighs, wandering into the living room. Thea's words roll around in his head and he reaches for the whiskey bottle with a shaking hand. He pours a generous glass and takes it to the couch, sinking into the leather. He tosses back the liquor and shuts his eyes, trying to clear his head.

After a while Oliver's stomach grumbles and when he checks the time he's surprised to see that it's almost two in the afternoon. Definitely lunchtime.

He contemplates fixing himself a sandwich and letting Felicity fend for herself, but then he thinks about this morning and how he practically had to force feed her that banana.

"Felicity?" He knocks on her door but she doesn't respond. "Felicity it's lunchtime, what do you want to eat?"

Nothing. Zombie Felicity must be back. He pushes lightly on the door and it opens to his touch.

"Felicity I'm coming in, okay?"

When Oliver pushes the door open all the way he sees her on the bed, knees pulled tightly to her chest. Felicity's staring blankly at the wall and she's rocking slightly, her arms tightly wound around her knees.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He climbs on the bed to sit next to her. "Felicity?"

She lets out a shuddering sigh. "I want my mom," she says in a tiny voice.

Okay, so she's homesick. No big deal. He can handle this.

"Do you want to call her?" he suggests.

Felicity shuts her eyes and tears stream down her cheeks. "I can't," she whimpers.

"Why not?"

"I just can't." Felicity lays her cheek on her knees and starts to cry in earnest.

"Hey, don't do that." Oliver places a tentative hand on her back and when she doesn't pull away he scoots a little closer so she's up against his side.

"Maybe I should call Sara," Oliver suggests. "You want to talk to Sara?"

"Okay," Felicity sniffs, taking off her glasses to rub her eyes.

He pulls out his phone with his free hand, rubbing circles on her back with the other like he used to do with Thea when she was little. He dials Sara and to his relief she picks up on the second ring.

"Everything okay, Ollie?"

"I have someone here who wants to talk to you."

"Okay, put her on."

Oliver hands the phone to Felicity, who lifts her head to put the phone to her ear.

"Hi," Felicity says, and starts to sob, her head falling back on her knees. "No, no, I'm okay...yeah...it's just hard...I know...are you sure? I don't know...Sara, I'm really scared..."

Something inside Oliver clenches at her words. Has she been holding all this in since she got here?

"Okay," Felicity cries softly. "Yeah, I will...please be careful...I know...I love you, too...okay, one second."

Felicity looks up at Oliver with bloodshot eyes and hands him the phone. "She wants to talk to you."

Oliver takes the phone from her and Felicity slides off the bed and runs into the guest bathroom. He winces when the door slams shut.

"Hey Sara."

"She doesn't sound good," Sara says in a thick voice.

"No," Oliver agrees. "She doesn't."

"How is she doing?" Sara asks. "Besides the crying."

"About the same. She's talking more but she's not eating much."

"Think she's sleeping?"

"Honestly Sara, your guess is as good as mine."

"Well, I guess that's to be expected, considering."

"Considering what, exactly? I'm doing my best here but you and Felicity aren't making it easy for me."

"What has she told you?"

"Just that she's in trouble. That you think someone is after her."

"Someone is," Sara says darkly. "That's why I got her out of Vegas."

"I'm assuming that's what you and Nyssa are doing? Looking for him before he finds her?"

"Yeah, I need to talk to you about that."

"Okay."

Sara sighs heavily into the phone. "Things are...progressing slower than I would like. Felicity might need to stay with you longer than I anticipated."

"How much longer?"

"I don't know, a week, maybe two."

"Christ, Sara."

"Oh I'm so sorry, Ollie, is that going to interfere with your busy schedule of drinking until you pass out every night?" Sara snipes.

"You don't have to be mean about it," he grumbles.

"I'm not being mean, I'm being serious. Maybe taking care of someone else for a change will snap you out of your funk."

"I don't mind taking care of Felicity but she's barely functioning right now. She can stay with me as long as she needs to but don't you think she should be around someone who's more-"

"Emotionally intelligent?" Sara snorts. "She's fine with you Ollie, don't worry about it. If she didn't feel safe with you she'd tell me."

"Look, I don't know what happened but it would be really helpful if you could tell me what the fuck is going on. I'm walking on eggshells around this girl."

"She'll tell you when she's ready," Sara says softly. "That's partly why I left her with you. You've both lost people. You've both seen things...terrible things..." Sara trails off. It sounds like she's crying. "I thought she would feel more comfortable around someone who would understand what she's going through."

"I don't know what she's going through, because neither of you will tell me!" Oliver says in frustration. "Seriously, you need to cool it with the riddles."

"Look, she's not like us Ollie, okay?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Some people aren't cut out for violence," Sara says cryptically. "It-changes them. Makes them different. Breaks them down."

"You're talking about me."

"No, I'm just trying to explain what the stakes are, for her. Felicity's good, and kind, and I'm afraid that when this all over-"

"It'll break her."

"Yeah," Sara sniffs. "I'm sorry Ollie, really, but she doesn't want me to tell you what happened. She's a private person. I'm sure she'll tell you when she's ready."

"I wouldn't bet on that."

"Give her a chance, please. She's my friend, and she needs us. When you came home you had your mom, and Thea, and Laurel, and..."

"Tommy."

"Yeah. Felicity doesn't have any of that, Ollie."

"She has me," Oliver assures Sara. "I promise. I won't let her break."

"Thank you Ollie," Sara breathes. "Really, you have no idea, knowing that she's safe with you."

"I'll take care of her, you don't have to worry."

"Okay. I should go, I've got to meet up with a guy."

"Okay, be safe."

"You know it. Call me if you need to."

"I will."

Sara hangs up and Oliver sits on the bed, staring at the bathroom, wondering at the girl on the other side of the door.

Who the hell is Felicity Smoak?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver learns he isn't the only one who gets nightmares.

Oliver wakes up to screaming. For a second he thinks it's in his head, that's it's another nightmare. And then he remembers Felicity sleeping in the guest room, Felicity crying on the phone. _Sara, I'm really scared_.

Oliver vaults out of his bed in only his boxer briefs and runs down the hallway. When he throws the door open to Felicity's room she's in bed, alone, _safe_ , and his whole body sags in relief.

Felicity screams again.

A nightmare. She's having a nightmare.

Sara's words from yesterday run through his head. _You've both seen terrible things_.

"Felicity," he says loudly, approaching the bed.

She whimpers, her head rolling back and forth on the pillow.

"Felicity," he says again, and touches her shoulder. "Wake up, you're having a nightmare."

"No," she cries, her eyes shut tight. Up close Oliver can see tear tracks on her face. She's flushed, her hair sticking to her damp cheeks.

He grasps her lightly by the shoulders. "Come on, sweetheart, wake up."

Felicity screams again, and this time her eyes fly open, wide and unseeing. She sits up in bed and Oliver reaches for her, but Felicity pushes him away and falls right off the bed.

"Shit," Oliver mutters and tried to help her up but she scrambles back away from him, standing in the center of the room.

"Get away!" she cries out, holding her arms in front of her face. "Get away from me!"

"Easy," Oliver says softly, walking slowly towards her with his hands held up. "It's me, it's Oliver. It's okay, Felicity."

Felicity backs up until she hits the wall and sinks to her knees, screaming into her hands. He crouches in front of her, watching her fall apart on the floor.

Maybe Sara did know what she was doing leaving Felicity with him. If there's anything Oliver understands intimately, it's being terrorized by nightmares.

He reaches for her and Felicity shrieks, kicking out with one foot. Oliver uses her momentum against her, catching her by the ankle and pulling her into his arms.

"No!" Felicity screams, her arms flailing.

Oliver tightens his arms around her, holding Felicity snugly against his chest. She struggles against him, pummeling him with tiny fists.

"Stop, Felicity, stop, it's okay," Oliver says.

She wriggles frantically in his arms, inadvertently grinding down on his cock, and he grits his teeth.

"Felicity, listen to me. You're safe. It's not real, okay? Whatever you saw, it's not real."

Felicity suddenly goes limp, like a marionette who's strings have been cut.

"Felicity?" Oliver cups the back of her head and lifts her up.

"O-Oliver?" Felicity whispers, reaching out and clutching his waist.

"Hey," he says softly. "It's okay, I'm here."

Felicity's mouth falls open and there is a horrible moment of absolute silence before then her face contorts in pain, and she lets out a gut wrenching sob.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Oliver murmurs.

Felicity's head falls on his chest and he runs his fingers through her hair.

"Shh," he murmurs. "It's okay."

Felicity sobs into his chest like a little kid, with total abandon, and it breaks his heart, to see her be torn apart like this.

"You're okay," he reassures her. "I've got you. Just let it out."

Felicity shakes her head frantically. "No," she sobs. "I can't."

"Felicity, listen to me," Oliver says quietly, rocking her gently in his arms, likes she's a baby. "I know it hurts. You just have to feel it, okay?"

Felicity keens and her fingernails dig into his skin. "Knock me out," she begs. "I can't do this, knock me out."

"What? No." Oliver swallows back a wave of nausea at her words, trying to imagine what she's been through that's so painful she won't let herself feel it.

"Help me," she sobs. "Make it stop, please make it stop."

Oliver takes a deep breath, trying to work past the absolute rage he feel at whoever has done this to her. He promised Sara he wouldn't let Felicity break.

He can't let her break.

"You're okay," he says firmly. "It's going to be okay."

He pulls himself up and picks Felicity up bridal-style. She wraps her arms tightly around his neck and cries into his shoulder, her tears scorching his skin.

He carries her down the hall and into his bedroom. Oliver tries to put Felicity on his bed but she clings to him, and he has to sit down with her on his lap to detach her arms from his neck.

"It's okay, I'm going to get something for you in the bathroom," he tells her. "Just hang on a second."

In his bathroom, in the glass cabinet above the sink, are bottles of pills.

Anti-depressants from when he first got back from the island, prescribed and untouched.

Prescription opiates from after the accident with Tommy. Not so untouched.

He finds what he's looking for, a bottle of tranquilizers. Oliver shakes a pill into his hand and then, considering the dosage and Felicity's size, bites the pill in half before returning to the bedroom with it and a glass of water.

Felicity is curled up in the fetal position with her hands over her face, making little shuddering noises, like she's trying to swallow back all her tears.

"Here," he says, sitting down on the bed. "Take this."

"What is it?" she asks, sitting up tiredly and rubbing her eyes.

"Ativan. It'll help you calm down."

"Okay." Felicity tosses back the pill, and hands him back the glass. Oliver sets it down on the nightstand and leans back against the pillows, watching her.

Felicity huddles in the middle of the bed, tear stained and crumpled. He feels the strongest pull to hold her, to give her what he knows she needs.

 _Comfort. Warmth. Safety_.

"Felicity," he says softly.

She turns to look at him, self-consciously wiping her face with the back of her hand.

"I'm so embarrassed," she whispers. "I don't...I don't know what happened."

"It's okay. You should have seen me when I came back from the island. Trust me, this is nothing."

"You mean you didn't cry like a baby in front of a hot guy you barely knew like a crazy person?"

Felicity blushes when she realizes she just called him hot. "Can you please forget I just said that?"

"Yeah," he grins. "I'll give you a free pass for tonight."

"Thanks." To his surprise Felicity scoots back toward him, and when he lifts his arm she fits easily under it, snuggling against his chest.

"Is this okay?" she murmurs.

She's soft and warm, her nipples pushing against his chest through the soft cotton of her tank top, and sweet Jesus, she's not wearing a bra.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, this is okay."

"Can I stay in here tonight?" she asks quietly. "I don't want to be alone."

"Yeah," he says, running his thumb along her shoulder. "Absolutely."

He finds his remote for the tv and turns it to the first movie he finds. Felicity yawns, stretching one of her arms across his stomach and laying her cheek on his chest.

"Feel better?"

She nods, tickling him with her hair. "I think the pill's kicking in. I feel...it's not so hard to breathe anymore."

"I'm glad."

"Oliver?" She looks up at him with glistening blue eyes and he has the strangest sensation, like he's falling, and he _likes_ it.

"Yeah?"

She brushes her cheek over his Bratva tattoo. "I don't know what I would do without you," she says, with wide eyed sincerity.

"You'd be okay."

"No," she shakes her head. "Without you...I'd be totally lost."

Oliver squeezes her shoulder. "I won't let you get lost."

Felicity blinks heavily and yawns again. "I know. Sara promised I'd be safe here."

"Sara really cares about you."

"Yeah," Felicity murmurs. "She's the best."

"You tired?"

"Mm."

"Close your eyes."

"I'm not going to sleep, I'm just going to rest them, okay?"

Oliver chuckles. "Okay, Felicity."

She snuggles into him and lets her eyes drift shut, her fingers curling around his waist. She looks wrung out but peaceful, the tension in her body draining as she relaxes into him, and his hand shifts to her shoulder blade.

He can see why Sara is so enthralled. Felicity is kind of fascinating, really, managing to come off as both preciously innocent and deeply wise. It's a startling combination.

She's beautiful too, but a kind of beauty you can't manufacture-her bright eyes, her sharp mind, this unexplainable glow that shines through even when she's crying.

"Sara wants to sleep with me," Felicity whispers.

His hand stills on her back. "Really?"

"Mm-hmm. But I keeps turning her down."

"Why's that?" he whispers back.

"Don't swing that way," she murmurs. "I like boys."

"Too bad for Sara."

"She warned me about you, you know."

"What'd she say?"

"That you were a perv."

Oliver snorts. "Of course she did."

"No, no. Just to be, you know, careful."

Oliver frowns. "Careful?"

"You have a reputation as a heartbreaker."

"Oh," he says kind of stupidly.

"Don't worry, Oliver Queen. I won't fall in love with you and ruin your life."

"You could never ruin anyone's life."

"Thank you," Felicity sighs.

Oliver runs his fingers through her hair. It's as soft as it looks. "For what?"

"No one's ever taken care of me before," she confesses quietly, her words a little slurred.

"Good thing you've got me then," he says lightly, trying not to think of the implications of that statement.

"My hero," she murmurs. "Night, Oliver."

His arms tighten around her, feeling something well up in his chest, something strong and insistent.

He looks down at Felicity in his arms and for once when he falls asleep he's not lost in a drunk stupor, not wishing for a slow easy death to put him out of his misery.

For the first time since before the island he goes to sleep with purpose, knowing that he has to be okay, for her.

Knowing that he has something bigger to do than simply survive.

He's going to save Felicity Smoak.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the last chapter was stuffed with all the feels you guys get a little (mostly) fluff break ;)

Oliver wakes up to soft hair tickling his chest and someone's thigh wedged between his legs.

He blinks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he looks down at the small blond curled against him.

 _Felicity_.

She lets out a sleepy sigh and shifts a little, her eyes fluttering open.

Oliver expects her to blush or pull away when she realizes the intimacy of their position - legs tangled together, her breasts pushing against his side - but to his surprise Felicity sits up and flings herself at him, winding her arms around his ribs and burrowing her face in his neck.

"Thank you," she whispers fiercely. "For last night. It meant a lot to me."

"I didn't do anything," he demurs.

Felicity pulls away just enough to give him a tender smile. "You should give yourself a little credit, Oliver. You're a good guy."

That one stings, because if Felicity knew the kind of guy he really was, how much blood has been spilled by his hands, she'd run down the streets of Starling City screaming.

"I think the women of Starling City would disagree with you."

Felicity rests a hand lightly on his forearm. "They don't know you like I do, then."

He raises an eyebrow. "You've known me for two days."

"Two and a half," she corrects. "And we spent it together the entire time, so approximately fifty-six hours. The average time per week spent in a new relationship is probably around ten, so if we were hypothetically dating I'd hypothetically have known you for five weeks."

Oliver stares. "How can you do math this early in the morning?"

"I'm a genius," she says simply. "I'm not bragging, but you should know that about me."

Oliver starts to laugh. This girl is adorable. "I believe you."

Felicity blushes and hides her face in his chest. "Then why are you laughing?"

He strokes her hair absentmindedly. "You're cute in the morning. It's nice having you here."

In his bed. In his arms.

He is so screwed.

"Do you like living alone?" she asks, snuggling into his chest.

"It got me away from my mother," he says. "So it'll do. I'm not so great with people, anyway."

"I think you're doing fine."

Oliver smiles. "You might be the exception."

"Don't you ever get lonely?"

"Sometimes," he confesses.

Felicity picks her head off his chest and looks at him. She doesn't have her glasses on and her eyes are wide and a soft blue.

"I was lonely too," she whispers.

Oh yeah. He's totally screwed.

xxx

Oliver takes Felicity with him to the gym. He normally doesn't go two days in a row without working out, and he can feel all the nervous tension his body.

Felicity blanches when he tells her where they're going.

"I don't do that," she says, looking kind of terrified.

"Exercise?"

"Go to the gym."

"What's wrong with the gym?"

"There all these beautiful people with amazing bodies there and its intimidating and I get nervous and I don't know what I'm doing and I just start feeling stupid and embarrassed and its like high school gym class all over again and I barely survived high school the first time," Felicity says in a rush.

Oliver can't help but grin at how adorable she gets when she rambles. "You don't have to workout."

"I do yoga," she says peevishly. "I'm not like, anti-exercise. I'm just anti-gym."

"Yeah, I kind of got that."

"Can I just sit and watch you workout? I mean, not like, _watch you_ , because that would be creepy, but I know I have to go because you're going, because obviously you work out, because _hello_ , so can I go and not work out?"

Oliver blinks rapidly. "How do you talk so fast?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

So Oliver lifts weights at the gym while Felicity sits on a mat a foot away from him, doing something on her tablet.

"What is it with you and that thing?" he asks her in between squat sets.

"I like computers," she says, her fingers flying over the screen.

"That why you're interviewing at QC?"

"Your family's company has a really good rep. Solid benefits, decent pay."

"Better you than me."

Felicity blinks, pushing her glasses higher up on her nose. "You don't work there, right?"

Oliver grimaces. "Much to my mother's displeasure."

"You like...have a job right?"

"Yes Felicity, I have a job. I'm not some dumb trust fund baby."

"I don't think you're dumb," she says softly.

"Sorry," he apologizes. "QC is a sore spot for me. When I got back from the island my mom wanted to groom me to become the next CEO and I couldn't... I was barely functioning and she wanted me to put on a suit and act like a businessman. We fought about it for months."

"So what do you do?"

Oliver racks his weights and grins. "I do what any rich kid without a degree does. I own a nightclub."

He lifts the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face and catches Felicity checking out his abs.

"See something you like?" he teases, and Felicity flushes scarlet.

"Sorry!" she blurts out. "I said I wouldn't watch you and I totally did, but in my defense you're basically a Greek God and any straight woman would look at you, I mean, I'm sure all the women look at you, because I'm pretty sure you're the hottest guy I've ever seen in real life-" Felicity's hand claps over her mouth in horror.

"Felicity," he says gleefully, holding out a hand to help her up from the mat. "Am I making you nervous?"

xxx

In the gym lobby Oliver turns to the locker room to take a shower and then stops, realizing he can't bring Felicity in with him. Shit, this 24/7 bodyguard thing is trickier than he thought.

"What?" she says immediately. "What's wrong?"

"I have to take a shower," he says, angling his head towards the men's room.

"Oh." Felicity says, looking around the lobby. "I guess I'll wait here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she says nervously. "I'm in public, it'll be okay. You're not one of those people who take crazy long showers right?"

"Here." Oliver pulls his cell out of his bag and hands it to her. "Just in case."

Felicity plops down on a chair five feet from the locker room door, his phone clutched tightly in her hand.

"Go," she says. "I'll be right here."

"Okay," he says hesitantly.

"I'll be fine." She gives him a smile full of false bravado and Oliver sighs.

"Don't move. I'll be back in a minute."

He takes what has to be the fastest shower of his life, and changes into his street clothes without bothering to dry his hair.

In the lobby Felicity is right where he left her, her eyes trained on the locker room door.

"Okay?" he asks, noting the way she jumps up when he comes out.

"Yeah." Felicity hands him back his phone. "I, um...I feel better now that I can see you."

Oliver nods, placing his hand gently on her back to guide her outside.

"Come on, let's get some breakfast."

He decides to takes her to a diner a few blocks away, a little hole in the wall place he used to go to with Tommy after they'd been up all night drinking.

Felicity reaches for his hand as soon as they leave the gym.

"Okay?" Oliver asks quietly.

"Yeah," she murmurs, leaning into him. "Yeah, just-" she grips his hand tightly. "Don't let go, please."

Oliver gives her a tight smile. He can tell being out on the street surrounded by people is freaking her out. Her eyes are wide and constantly scanning. Her hand is clammy.

"Almost there," he tells her and Felicity nods determinedly.

Down the street a sports car blows through a red and Oliver winces a split second before it rams into the car in front of it.

There's a loud crunching sound and Felicity lets out a muffled shriek and throws herself at him.

"What was that?" she cries, gripping the sleeves of his sweatshirt.

"It's just a car, it's okay."

Felicity starts to shake. "Are you sure?"

"Felicity, look." He points up the street where both drivers are out of their cars and screaming at each other.

"Oh god." Felicity exhales sharply. Her hands clench rhythmically around his sweatshirt. "Oliver I don't feel good," she gasps.

"Okay, let's sit for a second." He guides her to a little bench and Felicity sits down, her eyes glazing over.

 _Shit_.

"Here, put your head down." He guides Felicity's head down to her knees, blond hair spilling over her face, and he crouches in front of her.

Felicity whimpers and Oliver rubs her back.

"Take a few breathes," he instructs quietly, remembering the first few weeks back from the island, how everything set him on edge, panic always seeping into his consciousness.

"I'm sorry," she says, her voice muffled by her hair. "You probably think I'm completely insane."

"Do you want to know what I really think?" he asks her quietly.

Felicity lifts her head up, looking at him with wide tear-filled eyes. "What?"

"I think something happened to you that was so bad you think it's unspeakable. I think you're scared. I think you need help and you don't know how to get it."

Felicity lets out a strangled cry and bursts into tears.

"Hey, it's okay." Oliver wraps his arms around her. "You're okay, I got you."

"I'm sorry," she cries. "I don't know why I'm acting like this."

"I'm right, aren't I?" he asks.

"About what?" she whines, pressing her face into the hollow of his throat.

"That whatever happened, it was something really bad."

Felicity pulls away, sniffing furiously. "Yeah," she says, her voice cracking. "It was really bad."

She blinks and a few stray tears spill over.

"Then I think you're allowed to act however you want," he says, catching her tears with his thumbs.

"Oliver?" Felicity says tremulously.

"Yeah?"

"Will you help me?" she pleads quietly. "Sara said lots of bad things happened to you and you're okay."

"Okay is a relative term," he says. "But Felicity, you have to know that you're safe with me. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, okay?"

Felicity nods faintly. "Okay."

She takes a couple of deep breaths and some of the color returns to her face.

"You okay?" Oliver rubs her shoulders and Felicity sighs, tilting her head back.

"Yeah, just give me a second." Felicity rolls her neck. "I'm getting a shoulder rub from Oliver Queen, I'll be okay."


	8. Chapter 8

It takes a little coaxing but Oliver convinces Felicity to go to the diner with him instead of calling it a day at nine in the morning.

It's a hole in the wall place, the kind you only go to if someone you know has gone and changes your life when they tell you about it. The diner boasts killer coffee and the best breakfast burritos in Starling City.

Tommy loved it, and like a good best friend, Oliver loved it because Tommy loved it.

Felicity sticks close to him, sliding next into him in the booth instead of across.

"Cute," she murmurs, tracing the floral wallpaper behind her.

"I used to come here with my friend Tommy," he tells her. "And we had a sacred rule that you can't break, okay?"

Felicity nods seriously. "What is it?"

"You have to eat actual food. Not just coffee, okay? Otherwise you'd be insulting my favorite joint here."

Felicity nods meekly. "Okay."

Felicity points out what she wants to him and when the waitress comes Oliver orders for them, two large coffees and garden omelets (egg whites only for Felicity) and a side of bacon for himself.

The coffee comes in a large pitcher and Oliver pours for both of them, catching Felicity's little sigh of delight when he hands her the mug.

She does her usual ritual, cream and too many sugars, and moans after she takes her first sip, head tilting back to expose her creamy white throat.

Oliver blinks and shakes his head, wondering when coffee because sexual.

"What happened to him?" Felicity asks, wrapping her hand around her mug. "Tommy."

"Hmm?"

"You used past tense," she points out.

"Oh," Oliver sighs quietly. "Tommy, he...he died. Last year."

"I'm sorry," Felicity says softly, and leans into him a little, the floral scent of her shampoo invading his senses.

"Thanks," he says, swallowing hard.

"What happened?"

"We were in an accident."

"We?"

"Yeah, me and Tommy and Laurel."

"Oh," Felicity nods. "Laurel."

"Yeah. When I came home from the island...well, we'd all been big drinkers, not Laurel so much back then, she was in law school, but me and Tommy. And after...I just kind of fell back into it. Tommy encouraged it; I guess he sort of looked at it as me making up for five missing years of partying. Like I'd earned it."

The waitress comes back to the table with their plates and Oliver waits while she lays out their breakfast before continuing.

" Laurel and I were trying to work things out between us. She and Tommy had a thing while I was gone, and then I came back and made it complicated."

"By being alive?" Felicity says sharply.

"She didn't know I was alive. And then I was back, but it wasn't...it wasn't the same. But she and I never really had closure, and we started spending time again, sometimes with Tommy, sometimes just the two of us.

"So one night Laurel and I went out to a club and we got pretty drunk. We were wasted, actually. I was being an ass, throwing money around-I mean literally, she opened my wallet and we started chucking cash at people."

"Billionaires." Felicity clucks her tongue lightly. "So wasteful."

"How're your eggs?"

"They're fine, finish the story."

"Just fine?"

"I'm eating, you got what you wanted."

"God you're stubborn."

Felicity places her hand gently on top of his. "I want to hear how the story ends."

Oliver grips his fork with extra force. "It's not a nice ending."

"That's okay," Felicity says. "Happy endings are bullshit."

Oliver raises an eyebrow. "Not a fairytale ending kind of girl?"

Felicity makes a face. "Fairy tales are lies. Real life doesn't tie up in a nice little bow."

"I concur. So anyway, we get kicked out of this club. No cab would take us; we were yelling and being stupid. So we call Tommy, and Tommy-"

Oliver has to take a second, drink some water, focus on Felicity's soft hand on top of his.

"Tommy's pissed off 'cus he just finished at Verdant for the night-it's my club now, but back then we were partners- it's three am and he's tired, he wants to go home. But Laurel and I convince him to pick us up, so he drives over to get us. Tommy's driving, me and Laurel in the back, and then..."

He rolls his shoulder, the one he messed up when he got thrown against the side of the car that night.

"We got hit by a trucker who'd been driving for twenty hours straight. Fell asleep at the wheel."

"Oh, Oliver," Felicity whispers.

"Laurel passed out. I climbed into the front seat and Tommy-god, he was _covered_ in blood. I kept trying to make him stay awake, to make him talk to me-" his voice wavers and he takes another sip of water.

"He was dead before the ambulance got there."

Felicity slides her arm around his waist and presses herself against him in the little booth.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers. "I didn't know. I remember Sara telling me Laurel had been in an accident but she didn't tell me the rest."

Oliver sighs and plays with a strand of her hair, trying to fight the thing inside his chest, the thing with claws and horns that makes him want to scream like he did that night, holding Tommy's body to him.

"My boyfriend died last year," Felicity whispers, pressing her cheek into his shoulder.

"What?"

"Well, technically he was my ex, but we hadn't been broken up that long."

Oliver curls his finger around a loop of her hair. "What happened?"

"He killed himself."

Oliver looks down at her in surprise at her casual confession. She's staring down at their hands wound together on the table.

One large rough scarred hand and one pale soft little hand, and strangely Oliver thinks of Goldilocks, Thea's favorite bedtime story when she was three.

The lost girl with the golden locks, wandered into the bear house. Looking for the right fit.

Not too big, not too small. Just right.

"What happened to Laurel?" Felicity asks softly.

"Huh?"

"What happened with you and Laurel?"

"Oh. We couldn't make it work. It was too hard, and now...she's not really in a good place right now."

Felicity peeks up at him. "What about you?"

He smiles and straightens her glasses. "What about me?"

"Are you in a good place?" she inquires.

"I'm in an okay place right now," he hedges. "For me that's pretty good."

Felicity gives him a weak smile. "I'd love to be in an okay place right now."

Oliver squeezes her shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll get there."

xxx

They make it through the first three episodes of Game of Thrones that afternoon before his phone rings.

Felicity had squealed when she saw that HBO was running a marathon of season one, and Oliver had stared at her in confusion.

"Oh my god," she said. "You don't know Game of Thrones?"

"Being stranded for five years put a dent in my pop culture knowledge."

"But-seriously? A Lannister always pays his debts?"

"What's a Lannister?"

"Winter is coming? _You know nothing, Jon Snow_?"

" _I_ know nothing, apparently," he'd grumbled, and Felicity had smiled widely.

"You're going to love it."

Oliver thinks about ignoring the call when he gets it but when he sees that it's Roy calling he picks up.

"Hey man," Roy says. "I'm really sorry about this but I need you to come to Verdant."

"What's wrong?"

Roy sighs heavily into the phone. "The system's down."

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"I thought we took care of this last time."

"Yeah, me too. Obviously we were wrong, and obviously the guy who fixed it was a moron."

"You talk to Thea?"

"She's at a vodka tasting for the next hour."

"Shit. Okay, I'll be there soon."

Felicity looks up when he hangs up with Roy.

"Where're we going now?"

"My club."

Felicity wrinkles her nose. "But it's the middle of the afternoon."

"That was my manager. Our computer system is down, I've got to go take a look at it, see if we can get it running before we open tonight."

For some weird reason Felicity's face lights up. "Really?"

"Any reason you're taking so much pleasure in my pain?"

"Oliver." Felicity beams and slides her feet into her black panda flats. "I'm a computer genius. Systems down are like my bread and butter."

"You think you can fix our computers?"

Felicity gives him the brightest smile he's seen on her since they meet. "Oliver, I went to MIT. I can absolutely fix your computer."

xxx

Roy meets them in the office at Verdant.

"Who's the blond?" he asks tactlessly.

"Felicity, Roy, Roy, Felicity. She's going to fix the system."

"Seriously?" Roy asks with a raised eyebrow.

"May I?" Felicity asks, gesturing to that desktop.

"Sure." Roy stands up from the desk and joins Oliver on the other side of the room on the couch.

Felicity slides into his chair, fingers poised over the keyboard.

"Where'd you find her?" Roy mutters to Oliver, as they watch Felicity frown and type out a command.

"Sara."

"Ah, the world traveller. Figures."

"She's supposed to be a genius or something."

Roy grins. "Just at computers?"

He scowls. "She's just a friend."

"Yeah right, like you have any friends."

Oliver elbows him in the ribs and Roy grunts.

"Hey, can we have silence from the peanut gallery?" Felicity calls out. "I'm troubleshooting here."

"So, do she and Sara..." Roy trails off and flicks his tongue obscenely at Oliver.

"Nah, they're just friends, too. Not that it's any of your business."

"Dude," Roy whispers. "Please tell me you're hitting that."

"What part of _just friends_ don't you understand?"

"The part where you've never met a hot chick that you didn't try to fu-ow!" Roy says angrily when Oliver punches him in the shoulder.

"Boys!" Felicity calls out. "When was the last time you updated the system?"

Roy and Oliver stare blankly at each other.

"Uh," Roy says. "When the guy set it up?"

"Oh my god!" Felicity exclaims, and strokes the monitor gently. "You poor poor baby. Don't worry, mama's gonna fix you up."

"Felicity," Oliver says, choking down laughter, "are you talking to my computer?"

"Respect the process," she snaps. "They have feelings you know."

"You can fix it though right?"

Felicity beams at him. "Give me fifteen minutes."

"Okay."

"Hey Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you maybe go get me a sandwich or something? Fixing stuff makes me hungry."

"Felicity."

She types something and sighs and types something else. "Yeah?"

"I'm not allowed to leave you."

Felicity inhales sharply. "Oh," she says. "I forgot, for a second."

"That's okay."

She smiles at him. "Can we order food?"

"Hey, Roy." Oliver pulls out his credit card and hands it to him. "Pick up Big Belly Burger."

Roy rolls his eyes. "Alright."

On his way out Oliver hears him mutter, "Not fucking, my ass."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, this chapter is FULL of the feels! You've been warned ;)

The first time Oliver wakes up that night it's to the sensation of being watched, the tingle in his neck setting off alarms in his head.

He flips over and Felicity lets out a little gasp, stumbling back from the edge of the bed.

"Hey," he says sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

"Hi," she whispers. "Sorry I woke you up."

"That's okay."

Felicity gives him a tight smile. She's wringing her hands.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Can't sleep," she says, looking tiny and vulnerable in a torn MIT tee shirt and little boxer shorts.

"Can I get in with you?" she whispers nervously.

"Sure." He pulls the covers back for her and Felicity crawls into his bed.

"Thanks," she says quietly, curling up to face him, her hair spilling over the pillow.

"You okay?"

Felicity pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. "Not really."

"You want to talk about it?"

She shakes her head. "No thanks."

Oliver finds her hand under the covers. "You know you're going to have to talk about it sometime, right?"

"Do you talk about it?"

"What?"

"What happened to you."

"Oh," he says in surprise. "No, not really."

She pouts. "Then why do I have to?"

"Because you don't want to end up like me."

Felicity looks up at him in confusion. "Why not?"

"I'm kind of a mess," he says quietly.

"No, you're not," she argues.

"No?" Oliver raises a challenging eyebrow.

"No, come on. You have a job, and you have a nice place to live, and you have dinner every week with your mom and sister, which is adorable by the way, and you take care of your body, like, _really_ good care-"

"Felicity," he cuts her off, grinning.

"See?" she says gently. "You're not a mess. You're just sad."

Oliver sighs and kisses the top of her head. "You're a sweet kid, you know that?"

"I'm not a kid," she says, sounding a little offended. "I'm twenty-two."

"Twenty-two feels like a million years ago to me."

"Oliver," she says quietly, "do you think of me as a kid?"

He looks down at her, those wide blue eyes, and he can't lie suddenly, _him_ , the guy Laurel accused once of being a pathological liar.

"No," he says honestly. "I don't."

xxx

The next time he wakes Felicity is crawling over his body to run to the bathroom.

"Felicity?" he questions, and is answered by the sound of her vomiting.

He stumbles out of bed and finds her hunched over the toilet in his bathroom, dry heaving, tears rolling down her cheek.

"Hey," Oliver murmurs, pulling her hair away from her face.

Felicity makes a horrible retching noise and bends over, gagging, but nothing comes out.

"Water," she gasps.

He fills a cup from the tap and hands it to her. Felicity swallows and then starts to cough and the water ends up in the toilet.

Oliver rubs her back and Felicity whimpers, her legs shaking.

"I think I'm done," she says faintly, and falls back into him.

Oliver flushes the toilet with his foot and pulls Felicity to the sink. Her face is a mess, tear stained and streaked with snot and a little string of puke.

"Let's clean you up," he says gently, and picks her up and sits her on the counter next to the sink.

He takes a washcloth and holds it under lukewarm water. Felicity shudders, more tears sliding down her face.

"Okay," he says softly, lifting the washcloth to her cheek. "You're okay."

Felicity lets out a dry sob as he wipes her up. "Is it in my hair?"

"What?"

"Did I get it in my hair?" she cries.

"Your hair is fine," he tells her, wiping off her mouth and throwing the washcloth in the hamper.

Felicity moans and presses the heel of her hand into her forehead. "She loves my hair."

"Who?"

Felicity shuts her eyes and moans again, slumping forward, her arms looping around his waist.

"Hey," Oliver says. "Talk to me, Felicity."

"Oh god," she moans, into his chest. "Oh god, she's dead."

"What?" Oliver cups her neck worriedly. "Who's dead?"

Felicity starts to shake in his arms. "She's dead," she moans again. "She's dead, he killed her, she's dead."

"Hey." Oliver pulls Felicity up and holds her by the shoulders so he can see her face.

She looks dazed, staring a spot at the wall, whispering, _dead, dead, she's dead_. Her whole body is trembling and Oliver suddenly flashes back to the night Felicity came to him.

The blank stare in her eyes. Her hands shaking in her lap.

She wasn't acting weird. She was in shock.

He feels like a moron. How could he not recognize it?

What had she said the other day, when he'd found her crying in her room? She'd wanted her mom but she couldn't talk to her.

Fuck.

"Felicity," he says forcefully, cupping her cheek. "Look at me."

She blinks slowly, and her eyes do a glacial shift to him.

"Hey," he says softly. "Tell me what happened to your mom."

Felicity inhales shakily, trying to look away.

"Look at me," he commands. "Stay with me, Felicity."

She bites her lip and he rubs his thumb along her cheekbone.

"Come on," he urges. "You can do this."

Felicity shudders with her whole body and lets out a low cry.

"She's dead," she sobs brokenly. "He killed her."

"Who?" he pushes. "Who killed her?"

"No!" Felicity shrieks, and covers her face in her hands. "Stop it stop it stop it-"

"Hey, hey." He pulls her to his chest and she slumps against him, her little sobs ripping his heart apart.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "You don't have to tell me anything else."

They stay there like that until she stops crying. He offers her a tissue and Felicity blows her nose and leans against him, her eyes red and puffy.

"You want some tea or something?" he murmurs.

"Okay," she says, her voice hoarse from crying.

He puts her on the couch in the living room and wraps a blanket around her shoulders. In the kitchen he boils water and pours it into a mug, and finds a box of chamomile tea Thea bought for him.

When he brings the tea to her Felicity has her fingers curled in the blanket, her head propped back against the couch. She looks exhausted, and devastated, and still so pretty, even with swollen red eyes.

"Careful," he says quietly, setting the mug down on the coffee table. "It's hot."

He sits down next to Felicity and she curls into him immediately, swinging her legs across his lap and burrowing her face into his right shoulder.

"Hey," he murmurs. "Okay?"

She shakes her head and her hands come to his waist, like she's trying to anchor herself to him.

"Oliver?" she whispers.

"Yeah."

She shudders and her nails dig into his skin.

"It's okay," he says softly. "You can say it."

Felicity pulls her head up to look at him and he can tell by the look on her face that whatever's she's about to say is going to tear her apart.

She takes in a big breath and shifts suddenly so she's all the way in his lap, her legs falling to the sides.

"I wasn't supposed to be there," she says, staring at his chest.

"Where?"

"Home. Vegas." Felicity blinks a few times and then continues. "I graduated from MIT a few weeks ago. I was going to go straight to Starling and stay with Sara until my Q.C. interview."

"What happened?"

"Nyssa had a job come up, in Vegas. Sara went with her. She convinced me to go there from Boston. It was only supposed to be for a few days, so I figured I'd see my mom and then I'd drive up here with Sara and Nyssa."

"So what happened?" he asks, brushing the hair off her face.

Felicity starts to shake and he rubs her arms worriedly.

"Felicity, hey, look at me."

She drags her eyes up to him and they're filled with tears.

"You're safe," he reminds her. "You're with me, okay?"

She nods tightly and swallows. "Sara picked me up from the airport and took my to my mom's house. She went back to her hotel. When I went inside..."

Felicity sucks in a huge breath and bursts into tears.

"Oh, hey, come here." Oliver cups the back of her neck and guides her head down to his chest.

"I'm sorry," Felicity sobs, clutching at him.

"Shh, it's okay. You can stop."

"No." Felicity rubs her eyes angrily. "If I don't get this out I never will."

"Okay," he says, running his fingers up and down her spine. "Take your time."

She sniffs and wipes her face with the back of her hand.

"Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

"Did Sara tell you about my dad?"

"No," he says, confused. Her _dad_?

"Really?" Felicity looks surprised. "I thought she would have told you."

Oliver shakes his head. "Sara wouldn't tell me anything. She said she promised."

"Oh. Well, anyway, he...he left when I was six. My mom never wanted to talk about him. I grew up without knowing anything about him really, except..."

"What?" Oliver whispers.

"He wasn't a good guy."

"What do you mean?"

Felicity shrugs hesitantly. "I'm not sure, but I know it was bad. Organized crime. He had some scary friends. I don't even know why he and my mom divorced, but it's not hard to imagine."

"Anyway." Felicity gnaws at her bottom lip nervously, and Oliver resists the urge to pull it out of her mouth. "I got to the house and...he-was _there_."

"Your dad?"

"Yeah," Felicity says faintly. "He and my mom were screaming at each other. He-he had a gun. They saw me and my mom told me to run and he-he-"

Felicity's hands fly to her mouth to cover the dry sob that slips past her lips and her eyes slam shut.

"Felicity." He cups her face in his hands and she feels so fragile that it scares him. "Open your eyes."

Her eyelids flutter and with a shaky exhale Felicity opens her eyes.

"Hey," he says softly. "You're with me. You're not there anymore, you can't get hurt, okay?"

Felicity nods frantically. "Okay."

"Felicity," he asks, her name like razors in his throat, "what happened next?"

Felicity whimpers and he presses his forehead to hers. She exhales slowly, her hands wrapping around his forearms.

"I'm with you," he says, because that's what he wanted, more than anything, when he was floating on a raft in the fucking sea after his father shot himself.

For someone, anyone, to be there. For someone to carry some of the grief for him.

"He-he-" Felicity gasps and her nails cut into his skin.

"You can do it," he whispers. "You're with me, you're safe. Say it."

"He killed her. He shot her right in front of me," Felicity says, and collapses against him in a heap of tears.

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs painfully, holding her tightly to his chest, because what else is there to say? "I'm so sorry."

"Oliver," she whimpers, pressing her damp cheek to the side of his neck. "Oliver."

"I'm here," he says, wondering how the hell he became qualified to take care of a girl going though a trauma like this.

Not that Oliver isn't extensively well versed in trauma. Maybe it's like AA and he can be Felicity's sponsor.

Damaged People Anonymous.

Felicity rubs her cheek against his stubble, weeping, and his fingers thread through her hair. Felicity curls one small hand behind his neck and presses her face to his, lips only centimeters from his mouth.

"I'm scared," she whispers. "Oliver, I'm so scared."

"Shh." He cups the back of her head. "I've got you. You don't have to be scared anymore."

Felicity blinks down at him, her eyelashes clumping together from her tears. He breathes tightly, feeling something-some change in the air, some sense of gravitas he's only just become aware of.

"Felicity?" he questions, because she's staring at him like she _needs_ him and his chest hurts and he has no idea what's happening.

She kisses him.


	10. Chapter 10

She kisses him.

Felicity's lips are soft and taste faintly like tears.

Oliver kisses her back, allows himself to get lost in her mouth for a brief moment before pulling away gently.

"Oh god," Felicity blurts out. "I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

"It's okay," he reassures her. "You're upset, I get it. Don't worry, okay?"

Felicity bites her lips and nods hesitantly. "Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

Her eyes are swollen and bloodshot but her cheeks are flushed and her lips are parted. God this girl is beautiful.

"I really like you, Oliver," she confesses.

He smiles and brushes her hair away from her face. "I really like you too."

She brushes his chest with her fingertips, sending sparks down his body.

"Am I just imaging this?" she whispers. "Because I feel like..."

"There's something here." He completes her sentence for her.

"Yeah," she says uncertainly.

"No," he says quietly. "You're not imagining it."

Felicity exhales loudly. "So I didn't just ruin everything by kissing you?"

"No," he says. "But maybe..."

"What?" she says nervously.

Oliver pulls her close and she settles against his chest. "Maybe we should take things slow right now. You're grieving and you're scared and we've known each other for like, three days."

"It feels longer than that," she murmurs.

"Yeah, it does," he agrees. "Hey, Felicity?"

"Yeah?"

"So where's your dad?"

Felicity's hands tighten on his waist. "I don't know," she mumbles.

Suddenly the pieces come together and Oliver shakes his head, feeling dense.

"Sara's looking for him, isn't she? That's why she got you out of Vegas."

"When I saw my mom go down," Felicity whispers tremulously, "I passed out cold. When I woke up he was gone. I called Sara and she got me out of there."

"So you're the only witness. That's why she thinks he's looking for you."

Felicity nods, fitting her head under his chin.

"I won't let him hurt you," he vows. "I won't let him anywhere near you."

"I know," Felicity says softly. "I trust you."

xxx

He wakes up in the morning wedged between Felicity's body and the couch.

"Oliver," Felicity is whispering frantically. "Someone's coming."

"What?" he says groggily, and freezes when he hears a key scraping in the lock.

"Ollie?" a female voice calls out. "Ollie, come on, I know you're home."

Oh shit. _Laurel_.

Oliver rolls off the couch, grateful he's at least wearing sweatpants if not a shirt. Laurel's standing in the foyer in a crisp black suit, a cardboard box under one warm.

"Hey Laurel."

Laurel's eyes go wide when she sees Felicity on the couch.

"Who are you?" Laurel asks, her nostrils pinching together. "Ollie, who the hell is that?"

Felicity makes a faint noise of distress and throws a blanket over her head.

"Let's talk in the hall," he says, and grabs Laurel firmly by the elbow and steers her out of the living room.

"You have a girlfriend?" she asks in disbelief.

"Felicity's not my girlfriend."

"Oh please Ollie, we're not together anymore, you don't have to lie to me," she snaps.

"I'm not lying," he mutters. "She's a friend."

"You don't have any friends," Laurel says stiffly. "Remember?"

He crosses his arms across his chest. "What are you doing here, Laurel?"

"I can't believe this," she says to the ceiling.

"Laurel."

"I was cleaning; I found some of your things. Old shirts and stuff." She shoves the box into his hands. "I have to go."

"Laurel, come on."

"I'm late for court, I have to go." She goes out the door and runs to the elevator.

"So," Felicity says, her head popping up over the back of the couch. "That was Laurel."

"Yeah." Oliver rubs his eyes with a fist, hoping Laurel really is late for court and not running to a bar. "That was Laurel."

xxx

He convinces Felicity to go out to dinner that night. He's can tell she's going a little stir crazy and when he asks if she likes Italian her eyes light up.

Oliver changes into slacks and a grey button down and when he comes out of his room Felicity jumps up nervously from the couch.

Her blond hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders and her lips are painted fuchsia. She's wearing the blue dress she bought the other day with Thea.

"Wow," Felicity says, her eyes going wide when she sees him. "You can really rock a suit."

Oliver smiles. "You look pretty," he tells her, and Felicity blushes bright pink.

He takes her to Freccia, a little upscale Italian place that manifests a two top in a quiet corner of the restaurant for them the second the hostess spots Oliver handing the keys of his Porsche to the valet.

Felicity stares at him as Oliver waits until she's seated to sit down.

"Are you trying to distract me?" she asks, taking in all the candles and the leather bound menus embossed with gold script. "I didn't know we were going somewhere like this."

"Yeah, maybe," Oliver admits. "It is working?"

Felicity smiles shyly. "Yeah."

"Hi guys!" Their waitress, a pretty young girl with red hair approaches their table, and then smiles extra-hard at him.

"Hi Oliver," she says, and strokes his forearm lightly. "How are you?"

"I'm good Carrie, how're you?" Oliver sneaks a glance at Felicity, who is sizing Carrie up with a worried look on her face.

"Can I get you a drink before you order?" Carrie says sweetly, still only looking at Oliver.

"I think we'll do a bottle of something," Oliver muses, seeing Felicity's eyebrows shoot up.

"Felicity, you prefer red, right?"

Felicity smiles softly. "I would love a red."

Carrie winks at them. "I've been saving a special one for you, I'll send the sommelier out with it." She sashays away and Felicity stares after her.

"Who is _that_?" she asks.

Oliver chuckles. "That's Carrie."

"You guys seem friendly," Felicity comments.

Oliver shrugs lightly.

"Is she an ex?" she asks neutrally.

"No," Oliver says, trying not to laugh. "Definitely not."

Felicity wrinkles her nose. "So who is she?"

"She's, um...Carrie's a fan."

Felicity bursts into peals of laughter. "I'm sorry, it sounded like you said _fan_."

Oliver grins bashfully. "That's because I did."

"You have _fans_?"

"When I first came back from the island the media went kind of crazy."

"And now you have fans?" she asks quizzically. "Because you because famous after the island?"

"Something like that," he says, trying not to look as embarrassed as he feel.

"Yeah, I'm sure the gorgeous, charming billionaire thing didn't have anything to do with it," Felicity deadpans.

xxx

When they leave the restaurant they're immediately assaulted by flashing lights.

Felicity stumbles, throwing her arm up to shield her face. Oliver spins her by the elbow so she's facing him and walks her backwards into the passenger seat of his car with her pressed into his chest so they can't get a shot of her face.

Oliver jogs around to the front of the car, and the valet shuts his door with a contrite, "I'm sorry Mr. Queen I have no idea who called the photographers."

"What the hell was that?" Felicity exclaims, while the lights fade in the review mirror.

"The paparazzi," he says grimly. "Sorry, that happens sometimes."

"Wow," Felicity says faintly. "So you're like...famous."

"Not really," he says, feeling uncomfortable.

" _Weird_."

"You okay? Did they scare you?"

"Honestly it all happened so fast I don't think I even processed it."

"Fair enough."

Felicity kicks off her shoes and twists sideways in her seat to look at him. "Does that happens to you a lot?"

"Sometimes." He grins sideways at her. "But I prefer to keep a low profile now."

Felicity smiles back. "That bodes well for us."

"Oh yeah?"

"I'm a computer geek, Oliver. My idea of a party is Netflix and a bottle of wine. Low profile is my jam."

xxx

Back at the penthouse they change into sweatpants and get on the couch. Felicity hooks his computer up to his tv so she can show him something on Netflix about a doctor that travels through space in a phone booth or something like that.

It honestly makes no sense to him but Felicity is smiling and touching his wrist, and he'll do anything to keep her like this, safe and not dissolving into tears.

His phones buzzes and when he looks down he has a text from Laurel.

_Ollie?_

And then again, a few minutes later: _Ollie I need you._

"Everything okay?" Felicity asks lightly.

"Yeah," he mutters, and puts his phone down.

Ten minutes later: _Ollie where are you? Ollie please._

Dammit.

"What's going on?" Felicity asks.

"Nothing, its just Laurel."

"Is she okay?"

He shrugs uncomfortably. "I don't know."

No more texts but twenty minutes later his phone rings and when Oliver looks down he's not surprised to see Laurel's name flashing on the screen.

"Shit," he mumbles, trying not to get pissed off. This is so Laurel.

Felicity nudges him. "You gonna answer that?"

"I don't know."

She reaches over him to pause the show. "It's fine, answer it. I'm sure she wouldn't call if it wasn't important."

Oliver snorts. "I wish," he says but he answers the phone.

"What, Laurel?"

"Ollie?" she slurs.

She's drunk. Just fucking perfect.

"Laurel, you're drunk."

"How would you know? I only said your name."

"Because you're slurring."

"Fuck you, Ollie."

"And you're being belligerent."

"Who cares?" she drawls. "You don't care. You have Fliss...Felic...Lissy"

"Felicity."

"I can't even say her stupid name."

"What do you want, Laurel?"

"I need a ride home, can you pick me up?"

"I'm busy right now," he says shortly.

"Busy with her?" Laurel says angrily. "Fuck you Ollie. What _is_ it with you, can't keep your dick in your pants ever, can you?"

"I'm hanging up now, Laurel."

"No wait, please, I'm sorry!" Laurel starts to cry into the phone. "I'm sorry I'm being a bitch, it's just hard, Ollie, it's so hard."

"I know," he sighs. "I know it's hard."

"Please, can you come get me Ollie? I just need a ride home."

"Can't you take a cab?"

"I can't find my wallet. Please Ollie, I need your help," she cries. "Please help me."

Oliver groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Where are you?"

"My usual place."

"The one on Camden?"

"Yeah," Laurel sniffs. "Please Ollie, can you get me?"

Oliver glances sideways at Felicity. "I'll call you back in a minute, Laurel."

"Ollie-"

"I promise I'll call you back, just hang on," he says, and hangs up the phone.

"What's Laurel want?" Felicity asks quietly, picking at a cuticle.

"She's at a bar. She wants me to pick her up."

"Are you going to?"

He shakes his head. "I'm not leaving you here to pick up my drunk ex."

Felicity frowns. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know. She was upset. She's had a hard time ever since Tommy."

"Maybe you should get her," Felicity says.

"What?"

"She shouldn't be by herself," Felicity says. "If I was her I'd want you to get me."

"You're in a lot more danger than Laurel. You come first."

Felicity smiles gently. "That's sweet Oliver, but I'm in a penthouse with a guard downstairs and three locks on the door. Go pick up Laurel, I'll be okay."

"No."

"Oliver."

"I promised Sara. No."

"Wouldn't Sara want you to look out for her sister?"

"Oh for fuck's sake," he grumbles. "Then you're coming with me."

"Um, no offense, but that's a terrible idea. Laurel freaked out when she saw me this morning, I'd really rather not be in a car with her."

Oliver stares at her. "You want me to leave you here and go drive my drunk ex home?"

"Well when you put it like that-"

"This is a really bad idea," he says. "At least let me call Thea and Roy, they can stay here with you while I'm gone."

"By the time they come over you could already get her and be back. Oliver I know you promised Sara but I really don't think anything is going to happen if you leave me here for half an hour."

"I don't know," he hedges.

"Oliver," Felicity says firmly. "I'll be fine. Go be a hero."

"Felicity, are you sure?"

"Yes."

"For the record, I think this is a terrible idea."

"Go," Felicity says. "I don't need to be babysat twenty-four/seven. Help Sara's sister. It's the right thing to do."

"Lock the door behind me," he instructs, shrugging on his jacket. "And stay away from the windows."

"Oliver-"

"There's a baseball bat in the front hall closet," he tells her. "And a panic button on the buzzer, it'll immediately go through to 911."

"Oh my god, relax. I'll be fine. I'll see you in a little bit."

Oliver leaves with his keys clutched in his hand and a ball of lead in his stomach.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you guys are nervous after the last chapter. Don't worry too much, we still have four chapters left ;)

He finds Laurel hunched over the bar, bleary eyed and half conscious.

"Ollie," she murmurs, throwing her arms around him. "I knew you'd come."

Laurel is all dead weight and he has to drag her to his car double parked on the street.

"I'm sorry," she slurs, collapsing into the passenger seat.

He can't bring himself to say anything back to her, so he doesn't.

Laurel tilts her seat back and curls on her side so she can watch him while he drives.

"I hate being in cars now," she says slowly, like her lips are numb. "I can't even sit in the back anymore."

Oliver doesn't respond, thinking _Felicity, Felicity_ , he left Felicity for _this_.

"Do you ever think about it?" she whispers. "That night?"

"Yeah," he says shortly. "Yeah, I think about it."

"I'd never seen anyone die before," she says forlornly. "I can't stop thinking about it."

"You shouldn't do that to yourself."

"Don't be a hypocrite, Ollie," she says drowsily.

"When was the last time you went to a meeting?"

"I hate those damn meetings."

"Laurel."

"You'd never sit through a meeting."

"They don't have meetings for people like me," he says tensely.

He's already been gone for almost half an hour. Half an hour that he's not protecting Felicity.

"It wasn't your fault, Ollie."

"Don't, Laurel."

"He wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

His hands tighten on the wheel.

"Tommy loved you, Oliver. He wouldn't want you to torture yourself like this."

A muscle in his jaw twitches. "Don't talk to me about torture, Laurel."

He ends up having to carry Laurel up to her apartment. She finds her keys in her bag and he unlocks the door. Oliver carries her through the apartment and into her bedroom and deposits her on her bed.

"Ollie," she says softly, reaching towards him. "Ollie, I'm sorry about what I said that night."

"It's okay," he says. "Want me to take your shoes off for you?"

She gives him a sleepy smile. "Yes, please."

He bends down and slides her heels off for her, thinking forty minutes, he's been gone for forty minutes.

"I didn't mean it," she says. "You have to know I didn't mean it."

_If you had stayed dead Tommy would still be alive!_

"I know Laurel."

"I love you, Ollie."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Don't do this right now."

"I'm always going to love you."

"Laurel-"

"I know we're never going to be together again. I know you're not in love with me. But I need to know, Ollie," she pleads. "You still love me, right?"

He looks at her and feels what he always feels when he sees Laurel: guilt, anxiety, and shame. But he also sees his first love, the first girl who ever believed in him, the girl who had wit and ambition and fire.

He bends down and kisses Laurel's forehead. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"Thank you, Ollie," she whispers, and then she's asleep.

He can't make himself wait for the elevator and runs down four flights of stairs and practically leaps into the Porsche. Forty-six minutes, forty-six minutes.

He speeds back to the penthouse and bursts through the front door, shouting her name.

"Felicity?"

He walks through the foyer and into the open kitchen/living room looking around while his heart rate starts to climb.

She's not here. _She's not fucking here_.

"Felicity!" he yells, heading for the guest bedroom. She wouldn't leave. There's no way she would leave.

The light is on in the bedroom but Felicity's not here.

"Come on," he mutters to himself. "Where are you?"

Guest bathroom- no Felicity. Oliver halfheartedly checks under the bed, not surprised when there's nothing under there.

He's decided to check if she's hiding in his room-maybe she got scared because he was gone longer than she thought he'd be-when he notices that the closet door is cracked open.

Oliver carefully wraps two fingers around the edge of the door and pulls it upon slowly.

"Hi," Felicity says in a tiny voice. She's curled up in a ball on the floor, half hidden behind a suitcase.

"Hi," he says, crouching in front of her. "What are you doing in the closet?"

"I thought I heard a noise," she says. "And I got freaked out and I wanted to call you but I don't have a phone and I thought maybe I was just imagining it because I haven't been alone at all before now so maybe it was my head playing tricks on me? And then I got scared again so..."

"You hid in the closet."

"Yeah," she says, flushing. "And now I feel stupid, obviously."

"Hey," he says, holding one hand out to help her squeeze out of the closet. "You got scared. That's not stupid."

"How's Laurel?"

"She'll be fine, but she'll probably have one hell of hangover tomorrow. Serves her right."

Felicity sighs and leans into him, her face looking drawn and pale.

"I should have stayed here," Oliver says. "This is exactly what I didn't want to happen."

"You didn't want to find me in a closet?"

"I didn't want you to be scared."

"It's okay." Felicity slips her hand in his and squeezes. "I'm not scared anymore."

"You scared me," he says. "I didn't know where you were."

"Sorry," Felicity says softly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Oliver looks down at her and tries to give her a smile, even though he's exhausted from dealing with Laurel and he's wracked with guilt about leaving Felicity alone.

"Oliver," Felicity whispers.

"Yeah?"

She looks up at him in a way that makes him want to give her the world. "Wanna have a sleepover?"

He lets out a choked laugh. "Yeah, Felicity. Let's have a sleepover."

They walk down the hallway and go into his room. Felicity crawls into his bed and Oliver yanks his henley over his head and steps out of his jeans.

When he turns around Felicity is staring at him, her cheeks a bright pink.

"Felicity," he says with a grin.

"What?" she yelps. "It's not my fault you look like that!"

He gives her a dimpled grin. "You like the way I look?"

Felicity groans and hides her head in a pillow.

"Felicity." He pounces on the bed and she shrieks when he pulls the pillow away.

"Hi," he says grinning.

"Hi," Felicity says, but she's not smiling. She actually looks kind of stunned. He's got her pinned to the bed and Felicity's eyelashes flutter.

"Why were you hiding from me?" he asks softly.

Felicity reaches up and runs her fingertips over his chest. "You make me nervous."

"You said I didn't make you nervous."

"I didn't feel the way I feel now."

"How do you feel now?"

Felicity's tongue darts out to wet her lips and something in his stomach tightens.

"Like I want you to kiss me," Felicity says.

He bends down a tiny bit, so he's balanced on his forearms over her. "Really?" he inquires.

"Yeah," she breathes. "I know Sara said to stay away from you but-"

"She didn't tell me to stay away from you," Oliver says, and leans down to close his mouth over hers.

Felicity softens instantly under him, one arm coming up to wrap around his neck and pull him to her. He kisses her tenderly, coaxing the seam of her mouth with his tongue until she parts her lips. Their tongues touch and Felicity cries out softly, her hand tightening on his neck. He breaks his lips from hers and turns to her neck, the long elegant white column of her throat.

"Oliver," Felicity sighs. "What happened to...taking it slow."

He pauses, his lips hovering over her skin, and Felicity squirms impatiently under him. Oliver grins.

"We can take it slow," he says, and watches Felicity huff in frustration.

"I don't want to take it _that_ slow," she grumbles, and yanks his head up to kiss him.

"Okay," he says into her mouth. "You asked for it."

"What-"

Oliver flips them, so he's sitting against the headboard with Felicity straddling his lap.

"Oh," she says breathlessly. "Nice move."

He grins smugly. Felicity raises an eyebrow and whips her thin tee shirt off. She's wearing a purple polka dot print bra cupping creamy white breasts. Oliver feels his smirk slide off his face.

"Are you just going to stare at me or what?" Felicity says teasingly.

Oliver's hands find her waist and he grips her tight, pulling her against him. Felicity rolls her hips and they both moan.

"Kiss me," she pants.

He complies, bending down to capture her mouth while one hand slides up her back. Felicity pulls her mouth away to kiss his jaw, making him growl and tighten his grip on her.

"Oliver?" she says breathlessly.

"Yeah?"

Soft skin, that golden hair, those sweet blue puppy dog eyes. How the hell is a girl so innocent-looking so fucking _hot_?

"I might have to revise what I said," Felicity whispers, and grazes his earlobe with her teeth.

"What-huh?" he says, unable to focus beyond the swirl of her tongue around the shell of his ear.

"About not falling in love with you."

Her hand grazes his abdomen and Oliver shivers. "I don't have a problem with that."

xxx

Oliver wakes up to a persistent ringing coming from his phone on the nightstand.

"What?" he groans into the phone. "What's wrong?"

"Freccia?" Sara yells. "Are you freaking kidding me, Queen?"

"Huh?" he mumbles sleepily.

"What the hell were you were thinking taking her out like that where anyone could see her! God Ollie, how dumb are you?"

"Sara, why are you yelling at me?"

Next to him Felicity rolls over and blinks at him through heavy lidded eyes.

"Go to the front page of the Starling Daily," Sara says. She sounds pissed.

Oliver reaches for his laptop and powers it on.

"Are you seriously mad at me because I took her out to dinner?" he says into the phone. "Who cares? You didn't say I couldn't take her anywhere."

"You got photographed at dinner!"

Oliver clicks on the Starling Daily homepage and when the page loads he scrolls down and there they are, outside Freccia. Felicity is turned almost completely into him. The photographer only captured a sliver of her face, although his face is completely visible.

"What are you worried about?" he asks Sara. "You can barely see her."

"Dammit Ollie, we're not dealing with an amateur here!"

"You mean Felicity's dad?"

"Oh," Sara says quietly. "So she told you."

"Yeah."

"Is she...you guys okay?"

He looks over at Felicity, who's peeking over his shoulder to see what's on the laptop.

"Yeah, we're okay."

"Okay. Sorry I yelled at you. Just-be careful, okay?"

"I know Sara."

Sara sighs. "I'm coming back to Starling."

Oliver sits up a little more. "Why?"

"I have some intel that he might have left the state. I don't know Ollie, but I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Sara, how could he have even seen this photo? Why would he be monitoring things in Starling City? And even if he saw it, you can't really tell that it's her."

"He could have found out about her interview at QC. If he thinks Felicity is in Starling..."

"Then I just led him right to her."

"I'm not saying that. But I think you should lay low. Don't go out unless you have to."

"Okay. When are you getting here?"

"Tomorrow, hopefully early. We're leaving tonight, Nyssa's wrapping up some loose ends."

"Oh great, Nyssa's coming," he says dryly. "Can't wait."

"I like girls now, get over it Ollie. And stay put!" Sara hangs up.

"What'd Sara say?" Felicity asks.

Oliver sighs and flops back down on the bed. "We're under house arrest."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This chapter has a trigger warning for violence and serious daddy issues. Please review ;)

Oliver keeps them occupied for most of the day, mostly by marathoning Game of Thrones and taking copious make-out breaks. Felicity manages to hold it together until around nine pm, when she starts to break.

"Oliver," she whines, pushing against his chest. "Oliver, I'm bored."

"Really," he murmurs, bending down to kiss her collarbone. "How bored?"

Felicity laughs and pushes at him again. "Not so bored that I'd sleep with you already!"

"Ouch," he says playfully, nipping at her earlobe. "So if you don't want to do that...what do you want to do?"

She pouts. "I want to go out."

Oliver raises an eyebrow at her. "You want to go out?"

"Yes please," she says sweetly.

"The last time you went out you freaked," he reminds her. 

Felicity purses her lips. "Maybe it doesn't freak me out anymore."

"Felicity, we can't go out."

"Oliver, I'm begging you. I'm getting spring fever."

"It's not spring."

"I just need to go outside for a little bit," Felicity argues. "I need fresh air."

"Oh my god," Oliver realizes. "You want to go out because Sara said that you couldn't!"

"So?" she says sullenly. "I hate it when she bosses me around like that!"

"Felicity, it's not safe."

"I don't even know if he wants to hurt me! He could have killed me that night but he just left me there. For all I know he's already in Mexico!"

"Is that honestly a risk you're willing to take?" he counters.

Felicity looks solemn. "I think that if he really wants to hurt me there's nothing we can do. I don't want to live my life locked in a room."

"How about this? If Sara says you can go out, then we'll go out? Just for a little bit."

Felicity holds out her hand for his phone. "Deal."

Oliver shakes his head. "You are the most infuriating women I've ever known."

"Don't argue with a genius Oliver, you'll lose every time."

Felicity dials and holds the phone to her ear. "Hi Sara...I'm okay...look how serious were you about the whole no going out thing? Sara, you don't know that. Please? I'm so bored...Oliver will protect me! _Sara_...okay."

Felicity rolls her eyes and hands the phone back to him.

"Hey," he says tersely.

"I don't know how I feel about this," Sara says nervously.

"Yeah, me either," he admits.

"She has some pretty bad cabin fever, huh?"

"Yeah."

Sara sighs. "Maybe...if you take her somewhere safe, where you have control of the security."

Oliver grins. "I have a place like that."

"Look," Sara says. "She's right. For all we know he's in Mexico."

"But you don't think so?" he probes.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't know," Sara says hesitantly. "It's just a feeling."

"It's your call Sara. If you say no, it's no."

Sara groans. "Just be careful, okay? No unnecessary risks."

"Of course."

Sara hangs up and Oliver turns to Felicity, who's chewing on her lip. "So?"

"So here's the deal," he says. "If you really want to go out-"

"I really want to go out."

"-then we can go to Verdant. I know everyone that works there, we'll have control over the security."

"Your club?" Felicity questions. "Really?"

"Yeah. But that's it, okay?"

"Thank you thank you thank you!" Felicity squeals, and jumps off the couch. "I'm going to go change."

Felicity comes out twenty minutes later in a tight black dress that hugs her curves and sky high black pumps.

Oliver knows that he's staring but he can't seem to stop. "Where'd that come from?"

Felicity smirks. "Thea slipped some stuff past me when we went shopping, it seems."

"My sister has killer taste," he murmurs.

She smiles coyly. "Lucky me."

xxx

In the lobby Oliver pulls Felicity to the left out the front doors instead of to the right towards the parking garage.

"Are we taking a cab?" she asks curiously, leaning into him.

"No," he says, leading her to a town car parked outside, the driver leaning against the door.

"Oliver," Diggle says with a grin, giving him a quick hug. "How are you, brother?"

Oliver relaxes, a smile on his face. "Good. Thanks for coming."

Felicity is staring at Dig with a look of confusion on her face. "You have a driver?"

Dig snorts and Oliver laughs.

"No," he explains. "Dig is your bodyguard for the night."

"You got me a bodyguard," she says faintly.

Dig holds out his hand towards hers. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Smoak."

"Felicity," she murmurs. "Um," she says, looking at Oliver, "was this really necessary?"

"Better safe than sorry," he says cheerfully, and follows her into the backseat of the town car.

Oliver has Dig park the car behind the club and the two of them flank Felicity as they go through the employee entrance in the back.

"Why are we going this way?" she questions.

"Because I don't want you to get photographed," he explains. "We're keeping a low profile."

"Good call," Felicity says, and trips right over a stray wire and into his arms.

"Hey," he says, brushing tousled blond hair out of her eyes. "Okay?"

"These heels are really high," she murmurs, one hand lingering on his chest.

"Mr. Queen," Dig says shortly. "Shall we keep moving or would you and Miss. Smoak like some privacy?"

"Oh god," Felicity says, her cheeks turning red. "Wow, it only took me half an hour to humiliate myself in front of a stranger, that's a new record."

Dig gives her a kind smile. "Oh I'm sure Oliver knows all about that."

"Hey!" Oliver says indignantly.

Felicity giggles. "This is fun."

Roy is behind the bar mixing drinks at liquid speed, oblivious to all the girls hanging on the bar in their tight dresses trying to get his attention.

"Hey, when the fuck is Sara coming back? I'm drowning here," he snaps when he sees Oliver and Felicity. "Oh, hey, Blondie."

"Tomorrow," Oliver says. "And you're on the clock, so watch your fucking language Harper."

Roy rolls his eyes. "What can I get you Felicity? It's on your boyfriend."

Felicity bites her lip. "Oh, Oliver's not my-I mean I don't know if he's my anything, I just live with him, and I guess we're friends but we haven't even known each other for a full week..."

Behind the bar Roy is doubled over in laughter.

"Relax, I'm just giving you a hard time," he says. "I'll make you something on the house."

"I'd like a whiskey when you've got a second," Oliver says loudly, and Roy gives him the finger.

He comes back a minute later with a glass of pale yellow liquid that's smoking.

Felicity's mouth falls open. "What is that?"

Roy grins. "It's a smoking canary. Sara made it up. It's an off the menu creation."

"What's in it?" she asks in awe.

"Vodka, lemonade, pineapple juice and dry ice."

Felicity takes a big sip. "Oliver, I love your club," 

"That's because you're probably already drunk," Oliver comments. "Sara likes her drinks lethal."

"Sara likes her girls lethal," Roy quips.

"You're about to get wasted," Oliver warns.

"Who cares," Felicity says wickedly, licking her lips. "This is worth it."

xxx

After an hour Oliver and Diggle escort Felicity back out to the car, even as she protests and begs Roy to give her a smoking canary to-go. Diggle drops them off in front of their building and Felicity giggles all the way up to the penthouse, little hands clutching his waist to stay upright.

"Thank you," she says, wobbling down the hallway in her heels. "I needed that."

"You're welcome," he says gently, pulling his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door.

"Next time I'll wear shoes I can walk in, I promise-Oliver, _what_ -"

His hand clamps on her wrist, yanking her away from the door, which is unlocked.

"The door's open," he hisses, pulling her back towards the elevator.

"What?"

"The door is open."

Felicity goes pale. "Oh my god," she whimpers. "He's here, he found me-"

"Hey, hey, listen to me," he says fiercely. "I want you to take my phone and go down to the lobby. You're going to call Mr. Diggle and tell him to turn around and come back to wait with you. Then call Sara's dad-he's in my phone under Detective Lance-and tell him he needs to call a squad car over, okay?"

"What are you going to do?" she asks tearfully.

His eyes flick back to the door and Felicity launches herself at him.

"No, Oliver, _no_ -"

"It's okay," he reassures her. "I can handle this, just go downstairs."

"No," she says hysterically, clinging to him. "No, I'm not leaving you."

"Felicity, please," he says desperately. "I'll be fine, please, just go back downstairs."

"No!" she cries. "You can't make me, I'm not leaving without you."

"Felicity-"

"I said no!"

"Fine," he snaps. "Fine."

"Okay," she whispers.

Oliver cups her wet cheeks in his hands. "You stay behind me, okay?"

"Okay," she says seriously.

"And if I tell you to run, you _run_."

"Okay."

"Promise me," he growls.

Felicity blinks and a mascara tinted tear rolls down her cheek. "I promise."

Oliver takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders.

"Oliver?" she says hesitantly.

"Shh." He steps in front of Felicity and walks back to the door.

It swings open under the push of his fingertips and they tiptoe into the foyer. Felicity tugs on his hand and Oliver turns back to her, where she's pointing to the security system on the wall.

The box is hanging open and all the wires have been cut.

"Stay behind me," he whispers, and he feels her fingertips light on his back.

They round the corner of the foyer into the penthouse and Oliver stops short, making Felicity slam into him.

"Ow, what-"

" _Shh_."

"Hello." The man in the kitchen is holding a gun loosely at his side as he steps out of the shadows. "I've been waiting for you."

"Dad?" Felicity peeks around Oliver's side and he reaches behind himself to push her back.

"Hi, sweetheart," the man says sadly. He looks old, dirty wrinkled skin and sad rheumy eyes. There's nothing of Felicity in him, nothing bright or beautiful.

Just a sad used up looking man holding a gun that probably killed her mother.

Oliver keeps his knees bent, arms held out to shield Felicity with his body. He keeps his eyes on her father, waiting for the opportunity to rush him and take the gun.

"What are you doing here?" Felicity gasps.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart-"

"You're sorry?" Felicity says shrilly. "You're sorry-"

"Felicity," Oliver says quietly.

"You killed her!" she wails. "How could you do that to me, why would you do that?"

"I know," her father says. "Forgive me. I just wanted to see you one last time. I'm so sorry baby."

Felicity starts to scream.

The man closes his eyes and when Oliver sees the angle of the arm bringing up the gun he spins and pulls Felicity tight against his chest, so that when the gun goes off she doesn't see her father's head burst open like a piece of rotten fruit.

The gun goes off and his body hits the parquet floor with a dramatic thump that makes Felicity's screams triple in volume.

"Shh," Oliver says frantically. "Shh, it's okay, it's over, I've got you, you're okay, it's okay, Felicity."

Felicity pulls her head off his chest and stares at him with dazed unfocused eyes.

"Is he dead?" she asks hoarsely.

"Yeah," he says carefully. "He's dead."

"Thank god," she murmurs, and passes out.


	13. Chapter 13

Detective Lance meets them in the lobby, sending his team of cops and an ME up to the penthouse without him.

"I called LVPD like you asked," Lance says, sneaking a glance at Felicity, who's sitting stiffly on a leather couch by the front desk.

"Last Saturday a Donna Smoak was found dead in her home of a gunshot wound. A neighbor called it in, heard screaming and a shot."

"He killed her," Oliver says, tipping his head back towards Felicity. "She was there."

Lance sighs. "Care to explain how this girl's father ended up dead in your apartment?"

Oliver winces. "She's a friend of Sara's."

"My Sara?"

He nods. "Sara asked if she could stay with me for a little while. I didn't know why, at the time, but Sara was pretty insistent, said she needed a favor."

"And when was this?"

"Saturday night."

Lance shakes his head. "So her father followed her here?"

"Yeah, I guess so. He didn't really say anything, just that he was sorry, and then..." Oliver closes his eyes as he hears the echo of a gunshot.

"Well, my guys are going to be here for a while so I suggest you two find a place to stay for the night. If you need to pack a bag you should do that now. And I'm going to need to talk to Miss Smoak."

"Tomorrow," Oliver says automatically. "Please."

"Alright," Lance acquiesces.

Oliver glances back at Felicity, shivering in her little black dress. "I should get her a change of clothes."

Lance gives him a sad smile. "It's okay. I'll stay with her until you get back."

xxx

Oliver takes her to the Starling National Hotel and books a suite, signing the credit card statement without even looking at the balance.

Felicity is dead on her feet, dragging behind him into the elevator. He brought down her panda flats for her and she's carrying her heels in her hands.

She doesn't speak, just stares silently at the wall with glazed eyes. He unlocks the door and she wanders into the suite behind him, listing to one side.

"Hey," he says worriedly, reaching for her. "Come here."

She slips out of reach, one hand trailing across the gold embossed wallpaper.

"I have to shower," she mutters, one hand running through her hair.

"Felicity-"

"I'm going to take a shower," she says again, and slips into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

Well, shit.

Oliver collapses onto the plush cream couch. That's the first thing she's said since she woke up laid out on the couch in the lobby of his building.

He turns the tv on, rapidly flips through channels.

Paces around the room, listening to the running water of the shower.

Pours a whisky from the bar, waits five minutes just to prove to himself that he can, _fuck it_ , tosses it back and then does one more, because everything is totally fucked up and he needs a goddamn drink.

Fifteen minutes, and Felicity still isn't out of the shower.

He calls Sara but she doesn't pick up, so he leaves a brief message explaining what happened and tells her to _call him the fuck back_.

Oliver sits back down on the couch, stands up, sits back down, waits a few more minutes. Gets up, walks to the bathroom door.

"Hey, Felicity?" he calls out, knocking on the door.

She doesn't answer.

"Felicity?"

He waits a beat, turns the handle, and to his relief the door isn't locked.

The shower is still on and when he slides the frosted glass door open Felicity is sitting on the floor, naked, shivering violently, knees to her chest.

He crouches on the floor in front of the shower, and when she tilts her head up Oliver is instantly worried by the blank stare in her eyes.

"I can't stop shaking," she says dully. "It won't stop."

"That's just the adrenaline wearing off. It's normal. I'm going to turn the water off, okay?"

She barely nods, the tiniest shift of her chin, and dramatically shivers, her teeth clacking together.

Oliver turns off the water and grabs a fluffy white towel from the stack on the towel rack. He gets on his knees on the wet floor of the shower and wraps it around her shoulders.

"Come on," he says gently. "I got you."

He helps Felicity stand and walks her back out to the couch where she collapses in a ball, her wet hair sticking to the back of her neck.

Oliver goes back to the bathroom and gets a second towel. He goes back to the couch and sweeps Felicity's hair out from behind her neck.

"What're you doing?" she murmurs.

"Your hair is wet."

He squeezes it gently with the towel, soaking up the excess water. "Do you have a brush?"

She rubs her eyes tiredly. "In my bag."

He finds it in a side pocket and sits next to her on the couch. She turns to the side automatically and Oliver brushes her hair, starting at the bottom and working up to the top, like Thea taught him.

"Why are you good at that?" she mumbles.

"Little sister."

Felicity lets him brush her hair and when he's done he pulls a tee shirt and yoga pants out of her bag. "Here."

Felicity looks dolefully at her clothes. "I don't know if I can move."

He touches a palm lightly to the top of her chest. "You're freezing. You need to change."

"Why am I so cold?" she chatters, sitting up and crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

"You're in shock," he tells her. "You should get dressed."

"Um..." Felicity blushes. "Not exactly how I pictured you seeing me naked for the first time."

He kisses her forehead. "I'll turn around."

"Actually..." Her hand on his wrist is trembling. "Can you help me?"

He gets trapped in her watery blue eyes, dark with pain. "Yeah, of course."

Felicity turns her back to him and pulls the towel down to her waist. Oliver grabs her shirt and helps her slip it over her head, hands lingering on the smooth curve of her back. She slides her feet into the yoga pants and maneuvers them onto her legs under her towel.

"Come on," he says, holding out a hand to help her up. "Let's get in bed."

He flips the heavy covers back and Felicity crawls on the bed and curls into the fetal position. Oliver takes off his shirt and follows suit, shutting off the light and getting in next to her.

She slips under his arm, snuggling her cheek against his chest.

"It's not fair," she says softly.

He sighs, his fingers finding her damp hair. "I know."

"It's not _fair_ ," she says again. "He killed her, and now I'll never know...I'll never _know_ -" Felicity swallows a sob- "I'll never know why."

"I'm so sorry," he whispers.

"Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't leave, okay?" she murmurs.

"Felicity-"

"I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I shouldn't have said that, I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Nothing's wrong with you," he says, and leans down to kiss her head. "And I'm not leaving, so don't worry about that."

Felicity gives him a sad smile. "Sara was right."

"About what?"

"You. I wanted to stay in Vegas. I didn't-I didn't want to leave my mom. I know that sounds stupid because she was, you know, _dead_ -"

"No," he says, "it doesn't sound stupid."

"Anyway, Sara made me leave, and she said she was taking me to this friend of hers, and I didn't want to, I was yelling at her, and you know what she said to me?"

"What?"

Felicity squeezes his hand. "She said there was no one else in the world who would be better for me than you right now. And she was right."

xxx

In the morning they check out and go back to his building where Lance is waiting for them in the lobby.

"Your apartment is clear," he tells Oliver. "Might want to call a maid service though." Lance shakes his head. "Suicide is messy."

"Yeah, okay."

Lance glances at Felicity, who's tucked into Oliver's side with her fingers clutching his in a death grip.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Ms. Smoak," Lance says kindly. "Would it be alright if we talked for a few minutes?"

Felicity looks up uncertainly at Oliver, who nods his head. "It's okay. I'll be right here."

Lance leads Felicity across the lobby and sits down opposite her on the couch, but they only get a few minutes into his interview before the lobby doors bang open and a blond girl in a leather jacket runs through them.

Felicity turns her head at the noise and when she sees Sara she jumps off the couch and goes running to her.

"Hey baby girl!" Sara exclaims, tackling Felicity in a bear hug. "You okay?"

Felicity bursts into tears.

"Shh," Sara croons. "It's okay." She looks at Oliver over the top of Felicity's head and she looks wrecked- red eyes, hair tangled.

A brunette in tight leather pants strolls through the doors and Felicity releases her hold on Sara, sniffing furiously.

Oliver doesn't blame her. Nyssa isn't the kind of person who has sympathy for tears.

The assassin's daughter (or so Oliver's heard) approaches them and stops in front of Felicity.

She presses her palms together and bends deeply at the waist, the tip of her ponytail almost brushing the floor, and to Oliver's shock Felicity follows suit, bowing to Nyssa until the brunette straightens up.

"My condolences," she says coolly.

Felicity's eyes are red and puffy but she manages to give Nyssa a smile. "Thank you."

"Hi Daddy," Sara says, giving him a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. "I'm starving, okay if we steal these two for brunch?"

Lance glances between Sara and Felicity, clearly keen to finish his interview but unable to say no to his youngest daughter.

"Oh; alright," he sighs. "But you, young lady, we're not done here."

Felicity nods seriously.

"Daddy, relax, it's just brunch," Sara says calmly. "Let the poor girl get some food in her before you wear her out."

xxx

They go to Cafe Lux, a sunny glassed-in restaurant on the top floor of Starling City Mall that boasts an incredible 360 view of the city. Felicity is snuggled in the booth next to Oliver, her head resting in his shoulder. Sara keeps sending them little glances that Oliver is pointedly ignoring.

When the waitress comes Felicity only orders coffee and when they get to Oliver he orders one omelet for himself and one for Felicity. The waitress makes a note on her pad and winks at him.

"Why did you order for me, I hate when you do that," Felicity hisses angrily, the first words she's said to him all morning.

"Because otherwise you wouldn't eat."

"You are so annoying."

"And you're stubborn as hell, but I'm not the one ruining brunch," he whispers in her ear.

Felicity sticks her tongue out at him and he chokes on a laugh. "Very mature, Felicity."

Across from then Nyssa and Sara are staring at then with twin looks of horror on their faces.

"I warned you," Sara whispers dramatically, pointing a finger at Felicity. "I _warned_ you."

"Oh please, like you didn't know this would happen," Felicity says flippantly. "You frickin' orchestrated it."

"I didn't think _this_ would happen!"

"Sara," Oliver asks curiously, grinning at her. "What exactly do you think is happening?"

"You-you-" Sara splutters. "She's been with you for six days and you've got her wifed up!"

" _What_?"

"Look at you, you're like an old married couple!"

"You certainly bicker like a married couple," Nyssa adds.

"You did give me your credit card," Felicity says lightly, a smile playing on her lips.

"Jesus Christ," Sara says. "Are you incapable of keeping your dick to yourself?"

"She hasn't been anywhere near my dick, so chill the fuck out, Sara," Oliver growls.

"We are in _public_ ," Felicity hisses. "My father just _killed himself_ , so could you two please have some respect and cool with it the dick talk?"

"Your coffee." Their waitress is back and holding a tray with a carafe of coffee, looking a bit nervous. "Is there anything else I can get you at the moment?"

"A time machine?" Felicity whispers weakly under her breath.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the final chapter! Thanks to everyone who liked, commented, ect. Enjoy!

After brunch Nyssa mysteriously disappears without an excuse, and Sara and Oliver take Felicity to the police station to finish up her interview with Lance. He takes her into a back room, even as Oliver and Sara weakly protest.

"Relax, you two," Lance mutters in irritation. "You think I don't know how to do my job?"

"No sir."

"No, Daddy."

"Alright then." He puts a paternal arm around Felicity's shoulders and walks her out of sight.

"I've got to admit," Sara says, sinking into a chair, "I was expecting a lot worse than this."

"She's tougher than she looks. Pretty remarkable, all things considered."

"Yeah. She's special."

Oliver leans into her. "You mad?"

"That you two are obviously googley eyed for each other?"

"Sara," he says seriously. "My eyes are not googley."

"You picked a good one," Sara murmurs. "I hope you know what you're doing, Ollie."

"Honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing. But-I want to do the right thing. She...she's different."

"In all the best ways." Sara tips her head back against the wall and gives him a tired smile. "I'm jealous. That girl has an incredible ass."

He grins and Sara squeezes his thigh. "It's nice to see you. This week has been hell."

Oliver nods in agreement.

"We found out why," she says softly. "Why he killed her."

Oliver turns to her in surprise. "Why?"

Sara sighs, and runs a hand through her already rumpled waves. "It's a long, sad story darling."

Oliver glances at the door Lance took Felicity through. "I've got time for a story."

Once upon a time there was a man. He had a beautiful wife and a baby girl, but it wasn't enough. The man was greedy. The man wanted more.

He knew dealers and thieves, con men and gang bangers. He left his home in the night and stalked the streets, committing crimes for dirty cash.

He got greedier.

He stole money from a man, a man who vowed to kill him for what he had taken. He hid the money in the basement of his house, behind a loose brick, along with a fake passport and social security card. A contingency plan, if he survived. If he ever needed to escape the country.

He ran. And lived, for twenty years, on the run. Until he overplayed his hand, had to run for his life, leave the country. But first he needed to collect his seed money, his secret second life fund.

"So he goes to the house, her mom finds him, she threatens to call the cops, they argue, he kills her to escape. In a nutshell," Sara finishes. "Felicity wasn't part of his plan."

"Jesus Christ."

"And you thought _you_ had daddy issues."

"No shit."

xxx

When Felicity is finished with Lance Sara practically snatches her away from him, saying something about girl time.

"Come on, Ollie, I'm sure you could use some space," Sara says cheerfully. "I'll bring her to your place around seven?"

Oliver watches Felicity longingly as Sara pulls her down the street.

He doesn't know what to do. He stares down at his watch and sighs.

Five hours to kill.

Thea doesn't look entirely surprised when he wanders into Verdant at three-thirty in the afternoon.

"You look like shit," she says from behind the bar, a clipboard in one hand and pen behind her ear.

"I had a bad night. Day. Week, I don't know." He hops up on the bar. "Sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night."

Thea frowns, a sharp crease appearing between his eyebrows. "What's wrong?"

"Can I have a drink?"

"It's the middle of the afternoon, Ollie."

"Thea."

"Fine, tell me what's wrong and I'll give you a drink."

Oliver sighs. "Felicity's father died last night."

"Oh shit. Whiskey or vodka?"

Oliver presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Vodka."

Thea pours two shots and downs one with him. "What happened to him?"

"He killed himself."

Thea's mouth falls open. "That's horrible."

"In my kitchen."

" _What?_!"

"It's a long story."

"Are you okay? Is Felicity okay? What the hell happened?"

"Yes, not really, and it's a really long story, Speedy."

She hops up on the bar with him. "That sucks."

"Yeah."

Thea leans lightly against him. "Are you really okay?"

"I don't know," he says. "It...kind of brought up some stuff."

"Yeah," she says softly.

She jumps down and pours them each another shot.

"I really like Felicity," Thea says sadly. "That's really sad."

"Yeah, it is. I like her too."

One of Thea's eyebrows shoots up. "Oh really."

"Like you said, she's nice."

"Mm-hmm. And also super smart, and super hot."

"Um...she's pretty, I guess."

Thea snorts. "You're totally in love with her."

"We've only known each other for a week, I can't be in love with her."

"What do you know about love?" Thea smirks at him.

"Ouch, Speedy. Be nice."

"I'm just saying-it's obvious that you care about her. And you care more about your car than half the girls you've dated."

"I loved Laurel," he says a bit sullenly.

Thea rolls her eyes. "And look how well _that_ turned out."

xxx

Sara comes back to the penthouse at exactly seven with Felicity in tow and a bag from Big Belly Burger under one arm.

"Nice," he says appreciatively.

Sara smirks. "I know what you like."

"Yeah, yeah. Come on, plates are in the kitchen."

The maid service came earlier and scrubbed up all the blood. The floor is sparkling clean but he can't help but feel a shiver down his spine when he crosses the floor. Felicity is hovering on the edge of the kitchen, watching them set up on the counter, lip between her teeth.

"How was girl time?" he asks, wishing that Sara could maybe, like, _leave_. He hasn't been alone with Felicity since they got up in the morning. It's a new feeling for him, missing someone who's standing six feet away.

Sara winks at him. "Jealous?"

"Should I be?"

Felicity shuffles forwards and brushes her arm against his. "No."

Sara groans. "Oh come on, play with him a little. Who knows what kind of perverted fantasies are rolling around in that brain?"

Felicity rolls her eyes. "I'm pretty sure Oliver knows I'm not into girls, Sar."

"That's not the point. Messing with him is fun."

"Thanks," he says dryly. "Glad to know I still have entertainment value."

Sara grins. "And you're pretty to look at."

Felicity makes a choked sound in the back of her throat.

"You're very pretty too, Felicity," Sara teases.

"Can we eat please?" Felicity asks weakly. "I can't keep up with you two."

"You can't keep up with banter? Are you feeling okay?" Sara presses the back of her hand to Felicity's forehead dramatically. "Oh Ollie, doesn't she feel a little warm?"

Felicity glares at Sara. "You. Are. Embarrassing me."

"Sorry." Sara gives Felicity a light kiss on the cheek. "Let's eat, these are the best burgers in Starling City."

"I know," Felicity says, glancing up at Oliver and winking. "Oliver already bought me one."

xxx

After dinner Sara pushes back from her stool and scrapes her hair into a ponytail.

"Okay," she says to Felicity. "Time to pack."

Oliver and Felicity both stare at her. "What?"

Sara rolls her eyes. "Packing. You know, that thing where we take your stuff and we put it all in your bag?"

Felicity blinks very rapidly, the color going out of her face. "I can't stay here anymore?"

"Of course you can," Oliver says, at the same time Sara says, "You _want_ to stay here?"

Felicity wraps her arms around her middle, like she's trying to protect herself.

"You didn't tell me I wasn't staying here anymore," she says accusingly at Sara.

Sara frowns. "I thought since I was back..."

"Oh," Felicity says softly. "Right."

"Can I talk to you for a second," Oliver says, and pulls Sara into the hallway without waiting for her answer.

"What are you doing?" he hisses.

"What?" she says in alarm. "What'd I do?"

"I just thought...I guess we didn't really talk about who Felicity would stay with when you came back."

"Because it was implied. She's staying with me."

"Sara."

" _What_?"

"Come on. She's been through hell this week. You think she needs to be dragged around to another new place?"

"You want her to stay here."

"Yeah, Sara, I do."

"Oh," she says, frowning. "I didn't think of that."

"What happened to _she's all wifed up_?"

"I didn't know you were actually _serious_ about her."

"Sara. Come on. If she wants to stay with me then let her stay with me."

"Ollie..."

"Did you really think I wouldn't develop feelings for her? Don't stand here and tell me that isn't exactly what you hoped would happen."

"I knew you would take care of her. Sorry if I wasn't expecting you to develop actual feelings for her beyond attraction."

"Why does everyone think I'm not capable of having actual feelings for someone?"

"Laurel, me, Helena, McKenna, Isabel, shall I go on?"

"It's not like that with her. Come on, I'm not that person anymore, Sara, you know that."

"Alright," Sara says. "If Felicity says she wants to stay here, then she can stay here."

"Gee, thanks for your permission."

"You're welcome," she says sweetly, and they go back to the kitchen.

"I want to stay with Oliver," Felicity immediately blurts out, and he smirks at Sara. "Unless...um, you're totally sick of me, which I get, and there was the whole my dad breaking into your house thing, and the blood, which, _ew_ , honesty I'm trying to just block out of my memory permanently, because the last thing I want to think about is some guy who's technically my father, even if I barely knew him, blowing his brains out right where I'm standing-"

"Felicity," Oliver says sharply, and her cheeks get pink. "Of course I want you to stay with me."

"Oh," she whispers, and her pink cheeks turn into a full-blown blush. "Okay."

Sara laughs. "You two have got it so bad."

"Shut up, Sara," Oliver says.

"Yeah Sara, shut up," Felicity mimics, and ends up giggling hysterically.

"Okay," Sara laughs. "It's time for me to go. I should see Laurel. Nice job with that, by the way."

He opens his mouth to protest and she laughs. "Don't worry, it's not your fault she's a total bitch when she's drunk. I'll smooth it over."

Sara gives Felicity a bear hug, kissing the top of her head. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Felicity smiles shakily and nods. "Thanks to you."

Sara glances at Oliver. "I'm willing to share the credit."

Sara leaves and suddenly they're alone again, just him and Felicity.

He takes her in his arms and she fits right into him, the top of her head snugly nuzzled under his chin.

"So," Felicity says, "you're cool with having a roommate?"

"Well," he says lightly, "the girl in question is a genius, so that's gotta be helpful. And my sister is crazy about her, as is my best friend. I think everything will be fine."

Felicity looks up at him and grins. "Yeah?"

He smiles and tucks back a wavy blond strand. "She's also seriously hot."

"Oliver," she giggles.

"Smoking, really."

"Oh my god. That was the worst pun ever."

"You okay with living with someone who makes terrible jokes?"

Felicity shrugs. "You're pretty hot too, so I guess I can let it slide."

"Okay." He bends down and kisses her lightly, more of an idea of a kiss than the real thing, and Felicity smiles up at him.

For the first time since before the island really, he feels at peace, like everything really might be okay.

"What're you thinking about?" she says softly.

He smiles, his whole body light and alive. "I'm thinking that doing Sara a favor was the best decision I ever made."

Felicity tilts her head up for another kiss, her blue eyes dancing with light. "Yeah, we owe Sara a big one."

His hands run down her side, following the curve of her waist down to her hip.

"I'll give her a raise at Verdant."

"That's what I'm worth?" Felicity teases. "A few extra bucks an hour?"

"Felicity."

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to spend a very long time showing you what you're worth."

She smiles, slow and beautiful, her hands lingering on his chest. "You're amazing, you know that right?"

"I think you've got me beat in that department."

"Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

She quirks an eyebrow at him. "You going to show me or what?"

Oliver grins and hoists her up by the waist so her legs wrap around his torso. "I'm going to show you until you tell me to stop."

Felicity beams. "Not going to happen."

Oliver beams back at her (yes, _beams_ , like he's a kid who just got a puppy or something stupid like that).

Oh yeah. Sara's getting a big raise.

 

_The End._


End file.
